


THE DANCER

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 102,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: On a space station, far, far away, Chakotay meets The Dancer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New story, post "Endgame". The story will be posted in chapters. While I have an outline, I'll try my best to update regularly. As usual I don't want to give away too much. I appreciate all who will read, post kudos and comment.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters Janeway and Chakotay. All original characters are my own.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Mary Stark, for her ongoing editing of this project.

* * *

Darog Bohl was an ancient space station discovered by the first star travellers that ventured into unknown space in the twenty second century. In deep space, they found that there were others, like them, who'd ventured into the unknown where empires built these monstrous structures as way stations.

Situated deep in the Gamma Quadrant, it was used mainly as a crossroads for travellers working their way around the sectors, some seeking employment, others settling on M-class planets and still others running freight carrying cheap ores or sometimes valuable dilithium. It contained a myriad of docking ports for vessels arriving for trading or simply to find entertainment before venturing off into the dark skies again.

Although the station was nearly falling apart, the parts were still working, which made it a practical stop for all concerned. Like most space stations, there was no lack of entertainment, and some of which came with a hefty latinum bar price tag. Who wouldn't want to see strange looking creatures perform strange looking acts for an equally strange looking audience?

Commander Chakotay, former Starfleet officer and ex-first officer of the starship Voyager, also former consort of Seven of Nine, nowadays preferred to be called Amarr.  At present, he could be found sitting at a table in a crowded bar on the station.

He hadn't seen daylight in almost three months. When he'd started out he'd worked his way from planet to planet and station to station, further and further away from Federation space and everything once known to him. He owned a small but effective vessel he'd bartered for with latinum he'd worked for on old freighters, enabling him to travel from sector to sector. His ship was equipped with replicators, sonic showers, other conveniences like a small holodeck with technology and parts stripped from Federation derelicts, technology which he’d kept firmly under wraps.

Sometimes, like now, he liked the multi-cultural atmosphere of a space station like Darog Bohl where he could merge among the many different species and simply tune out the various tongues in which they spoke. An old communicator pin he'd rigged to act as translator was sufficient to talk to the locals, those who had been born and raised on the station. It was necessary that he made contact, surreptitiously gaining information in his quest for one human, always hoping he'd find her. It was a search that frustrated him, but he continued doggedly searching.  So far he hadn't been lucky.

He'd grown his hair long, a far cry from the short cropped haircut of his Voyager days, which he kept tied in a pony tail. There was nothing he could do about his tattoo, but he was among strange races. It didn't seem to garner any interest, nobody gave him second looks or did double takes of recognition. He wore leathers, much like in his old Maquis days.

Strangely enough, he enjoyed the anonymity of being among species not encountered before by the Federation. They were too deep in the Gamma Quadrant to be known to anyone from Starfleet Command. Why, it could be just a short journey through a wormhole and he'd be back in the region of Ocampa! He liked it that way. No one knew him except those aliens he bartered with from time to time. They met reasonably often, like truckers at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere.

Which is why he found himself sitting in a seedy looking nightclub nursing his drink. Earlier he'd sat at the counter and the bartender had given him a jaundiced look. The man had fangs and ear lobes that reached his neck and a rubbery skin.

"What do you want?" the barman had asked.

"What do you have today?"

"Cantinino Greenberry Flush is what most want these days. It gets you drunk slowly."

Behind the barman was a rack containing glasses large and small, some with very long flutes, suiting all shapes and sizes of the various species that frequented the Green Bar.

"I'll have that."

Then the bartender refused to move from his position until Amarr slapped a credit on the counter. He was thirsty and he needed it now. Water seemed too bland tonight. He carried a sling pouch containing his critical devices and bartering credits whenever he was off his ship. And he was never without his trusty d'k tahg. No one needed to know the contents of his bag, and the d'k tahg remained his warning signal to anyone thinking about messing with him. He’d found that the hard currency used here was very similar to latinum, even in this part of the Gamma Quadrant, and could be traded easily in any bar for smaller credits.

Seconds later, a long stemmed glass with a short flute appeared with a greenish-blue liquid; on top drifted three tiny green berries. He took his drink and sat down at a table closest to a stage that contained two poles. Music played somewhere. Soon there would be dancing, probably. He hadn't been to this saloon before so he was in the dark about the entertainment, although he'd heard about the cat sisters. There were at least a hundred places of entertainment on Darog Bohl but most knew about the cat sisters, a sentient cat-like species.

He took another sip of his drink. Nothing strange about it, like most drinks he'd tried before back home, or those rare occasions on Voyager when he'd gained enough rations to splurge on himself. It gave him a slight heady feeling, but he enjoyed it. He needed to be drunk enough not to lose control but also to forget why he was so restless.

"Was she beautiful?"

Startled out of his reverie, the patron at the next table, an alien with a bifurcated forehead and fierce countenance leaned towards him. Close up he noticed the alien's face had a single, fairly large nostril. His hair was as straight as Amarr's, though snipped just long enough to cover his ears.

"Was she beautiful?" the stranger asked again. "Did she chase you from her bed?"

Amarr shrugged. How right the alien was. Seven of Nine had thrown him out. If he thought about it, really, he’d walked out, eventually. He didn't shed a single tear, neither it seemed did she. She knew before him - to 'sense' was a foreign emotion to her - that it was over after only two months together. They worked, they ate, they fucked. Then it was over.

By the time he wanted to go cap in hand to Kathryn, she had married and her new husband had taken her on an extended vacation. She was lost to him as much as Seven was. He had wanted Kathryn so badly but waiting had become a millstone, an unpleasant weight he carried right until Kathryn…  Seven of Nine briefly filled his aching void. From the outset, it wasn't working. Why? Because their souls weren't joined. Not like that last night on Voyager when… He gave a sigh. He didn't want to revisit the past. So he’d resigned and left. That was three years ago. He’d never returned.

"Yeah, she threw me out," he admitted heavily.

"Women," the alien offered, "only want bed warmers."

_Not Kathryn, you dickhead! I blew it with her. She took someone else and left._

He shrugged again. The music changed, like a new dramatic entrée to announce the next act. The pole-dancers were about to enter the stage. He'd heard of the sisters - exotic dancers whose reputation had reached neighbouring star ports. Amarr grinned inwardly. Pole-dancing was nothing new. They'd been doing it on Earth since the fifteenth century, though in recent decades it was more a sport and recreation thing. Here though, it seemed pretty clear sport was not on their minds and recreation was of the sexual-exotic kind.

The air had a dank smell, the patrons were rowdy and he couldn't figure whether they were swearing or just talking. But their glasses were never empty, making the barman a very happy man. Their eyes popped when the girls appeared. He really was in no mood to be entertained, for always the flash of a pair of blue-grey eyes kept him wandering from port to port in his nomadic existence. Maybe it was time to hit the road again. Too long in one place and he'd be a local like the locals. He had to stay a few days though until he'd walked the whole station.

"They're good," slurred the alien. A few others in the saloon began clapping.

Two dancers slinked forward, one from each side of the stage. They resembled grey cats with their long furry tails and ears protruding from the top of their heads. Still, they were mostly bipedal since they walked upright. Each wrapped her lithe body round a pole and began slithering like a snake, twisting and twisting, the tail following the same route as her willowy body. Their lips pouted, their eyes heavy with sensual invitation. It was certainly exotic. Amarr took another quick gulp of his Cantinino Greenberry Flush, the warmth spreading through him, though he wasn't entirely certain that it was the wine creating this disturbance in his body.

Something was happening and he wondered absently whether the bartender had sprayed pheromones in the air. Or did the girls ooze them? They danced topless, their breasts full, firm, nipples hard. He thought illogically of Seven with her breasts and the way she sometimes pressed his face into her heavy bosom. He grew hard just at that thought, knowing he was going to embarrass himself so he coughed once, hoping his unwanted friend didn't notice.

"They get to you every time," the alien said, grimacing as he rubbed his crotch furiously to bank down his erection. 

It seemed to calm Amarr that he wasn't alone in his near embarrassment, his control winning out finally. The girls, already topless, began slowly removing the strings they were wearing. Wasn't it enough that they were near naked anyway?

A hand touched his shoulder. "Come outside with me," the alien said. "By the way, I am Isner, from the planet Kirlea."

"Amarr."

"Amarr. Come with me."

Good idea, Amarr thought as he rose quickly from his chair and followed Isner outside, relieved to exit the club and the cats who were more like mewling kittens waiting to ensnare them.

"Where are we going?" Amarr asked as he hurried behind Isner who was at least six centimetres taller than him.

"Very exclusive club on Darog Bohl. Do you have latinum?"

"What's it to you?"

"That's what you pay to have private views. Only the best for the best!"

Amarr was certain that he had never heard of such a club on Darog Bohl. Giving a sigh, he nodded. He had time to kill. Three days of time to kill. Besides, Isner's enthusiasm had rubbed off on him. The man knew his way about the underbelly of the station's entertainment. He might as well follow. 

"Just my luck to meet someone who crawls the exclusive underground night clubs," he muttered under his breath.

He experienced a momentary twinge of guilt, then shrugged it off quickly. How much could it hurt him? He had latinum to spare. A sudden image came of him accusing Tom Paris of being a latinum-monger and  Kathryn defending Tom. Amarr forced those thoughts ruthlessly away. It was enough that her eyes followed him everywhere.

"Oh, what the heck. Let's go!"

Isner led him to the nearest transport. There were very few people about, mostly men, Amarr realised. Were they all dogs following females in heat? he wondered.

"Here, we get in this one," Isner said. He promptly boarded the flitter then looked at Amarr. "Well? Are you chicken?"

"I am not a coward!" Amarr blustered as he got on and sat next to Isner.

"You'll see," began Isner, "these ladies are the most beautiful on Darog Bohl. Just don't go falling for them."

"Have you fallen for one of them?" Amarr asked by way of getting more information.

Isner rubbed his chin, looked askance at Amarr. He cleared his throat.

"I frequent the Glitter Pit. Cannot keep away. Fell for one of my own race, beautiful girl. But she was not for me. I was rudely awakened to that little reality. Why do you think I watch cats dance with poles?"

Amarr suppressed the urge to laugh, Instead he made a click with his tongue. Isner looked decidedly miserable when he spoke about the girl he liked.

"The girl didn't like you?" Amarr asked.

"Let's just say she's not supposed to like me, although I swear by Kirill she does!"

Amarr gave a low chuckle. "Then I'd say we're both down on our luck with the women," he joked.

But inside he felt the old bitterness, blithely slanted away with merriment for the Kirlean's sake. The man needed an injection of hope, a feeling that he wasn't alone. They were quiet for a short while before Isner began talking again, mostly about the girl who didn't want him, and she of his own species. What, Amarr wondered, was the reason that his new friend couldn't have the girl? Isner appeared flippant, but his eyes revealed a little of his misery.

Meanwhile, the flitter stopped. Amarr thought they'd travelled about twenty minutes. He looked around him and except for the two of them, there were only a few locals waiting to board the transport for other destinations on the station.

"We're here. Follow me." 

Isner didn't wait for Amarr. Instead, he started walking immediately. Amarr followed, adjusting his stride to keep up with Isner. They approached a walkway along which were several entrances to establishments of various types. Usually there were trading halls along the walkways so he knew they weren't entering through one of those doors. Isner continued on the walkway a good hundred metres, then down a shaft to a lower level before continuing a further fifty metres. At least, it felt like that to Amarr as he'd begun to count his paces. He had to know his way out of here if he wanted to reach his vessel. The New Liberty was docked on the other side of Darog Bohl, a forcefield protecting his ship from being pilfered.

He banged into Isner as the Kirlean turned abruptly to face him. "You got your latinum?"

Amarr, carrying a sling bag, just nodded. He didn't want his new friend raising eyebrows if he so much as patted the bag. He could defend himself, he knew. He'd gotten out of too many serious scrapes before. No reason why he couldn't get out of thi one if the situation called for it. But, he'd wanted to come along to watch a special item, a private viewing of a dancer, much better than the twin cats twisting their bodies around a pole.

"Yes. You got yours?"

"Seeing the same girl tonight. I learned the hard way - "  Isner chuckled. "I act as if I don't know her, see? Let me make something clear here. Only because I saw how solitary you were there in that club that I decided to make this evening a little more memorable. This is for you, my new…friend. Say, you're not from these sectors, are you? You're the first of your race around Darog Bohl. Well if you don't count some of the species who appear much like you… Where are you from, did you say?"

"I didn't say anything but to satisfy your curiosity, I am human from the planet Earth. I travel…a lot."

He didn’t want to furnish any more details. The less anyone knew, the better.  No need to tell Isner he couldn't stay in one place for long, that while he didn't like it, his nomadic existence had all but foisted itself on him because he simply couldn't…  He had to keep on searching. Sighing, he gestured that Isner continue. The Kirlean walked briskly then slowed down somewhat. They must be close to their destination. Isner stopped, then took a deep breath, exhaling through his mono-nostril. Did some smoke just come out of his nose? And why hadn’t it happened at the Green Bar with the twin cats

"My species, Amarr," Isner spoke in low tones. "When the males of our species are sexually aroused near anyone from our own race, our breathing heats our insides. We burn up, see? Now my nose is properly warmed up for my private viewing."

"Already? Your girl who's not supposed to like you is here? You haven't even seen your…dancer."

"No matter. It happens even if I get another girl."

Only then Amarr remembered how Isner had rubbed his crotch in the bar, probably to prevent burning up. He hadn't seen any smoke, however. Isner tapped with his flat hand against the door. Three short staccato raps. The doors slid open to a foyer bathed in red illumination. Beyond, he could discern figures but only in silhouette.

The moment he and Isner crossed the threshold, a voice - Amarr thought it sounded like the computer's voice on Voyager - thin and tinny, said simply, "Welcome to the Glitter Pit where all your needs are met. Who brings the stranger here?"

They knew it was his first time? He was probably scanned when he crossed the threshold, he realised. They didn't appear concerned that he carried a weapon.

"Isner, of Kirlea. I bring my friend Amarr of Sola for a private viewing."

"That will be one bar of latinum. Please see the Master of the House."

"Thank you," Amarr said in a thin voice. He couldn't look at Isner, but knew Isner was blowing smoke through his lone nostril. Amarr almost laughed when he thought of saying 'monotril'. 

Isner grabbed his arm and entered the restaurant. On a stage, a few women were dancing and being ogled by the men at their tables. So what else was new? But Isner's short three-rap knock was definitely a signal for a different request. They were ushered by a strange looking alien with large bead-like eyes to a little room just off the main hall where they waited a few minutes before someone entered the office. He was the thinnest man Amarr had ever seen. Thin, large head and bulging eyes, long arms and long fingernails. He scratched his head, then sat down on a tall stool.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked in a booming voice, in total contrast to his wiry frame.

"You know what I require,  Ruigi. I'm not very choosy. I learnt my lesson from the last time I visited the Glitter Pit. But you know how much I like the dancer of my own species. My friend here wants someone close to his race too. Perhaps you have such a dancer?" Isner asked, a hopeful sound in his voice and eager eyes.

Ruigi glared at Amarr, his eyes sweeping speculatively over the new visitor.

"You are not from these parts," Ruigi said. His impressive brows knit together as he flicked through a PADD. "I have someone," he added, then looked at Amarr. "For one bar of latinum you can look but do not touch. Is that understood?"

"I cannot have sex with my dancer?" he challenged. He knew it wasn't part of the deal but he wanted to test Ruigi's reaction.

"Do not disrespect my establishment!" Ruigi boomed, clearly outraged at Amarr's suggestion.

"Fine."

Amarr experienced a sudden twinge of regret. Maybe he shouldn't have come. He should have turned down Isner's invitation. But now that he'd come this far, he didn't want to turn back. Besides, he was very, very curious as to what would transpire in his private cubicle. His heartbeat quickened just at the anticipation of enjoying someone - a woman of whatever race - dancing just for him. He was the only human on the station, so he didn't mind if his dancer wasn't human. She just had to be a classy biped dancer. Perhaps for a short time he could enjoy being in the company of a woman and not experience flashes of a pair of blue-grey eyes that seemed to haunt his waking moments and sometimes intrude on his sleeping moments too. Maybe that was what Seven of Nine knew. He was with her and not with her. He doubted whether Isner would appreciate that logic.

"There is one dancer I think you will like, Mr Amarr. She is our best. For this night only, I give you the best. Her name is Majja."

"Majja?"

"Majja. Kiosk 7 is yours for the next hour. She has made that kiosk her own, if you understand my meaning. Remember, no touching."

"No touching. Got it."

They exited the office after Isner had been given the kiosk number of his private dancer. He seemed just as excited, his monotril blowing smoke in little twirls. Amarr wanted to shake his head. He'd just parted with a bar of latinum to watch someone gyrate in front of him. If she was anything like the cat sisters and their pole dance or even better, he'd be hard in no time. He hadn't been short of women, indulging mostly in one-night stands and never pursuing anything lasting. It was just that the last time he slept with a woman, he'd woken up the next morning wondering how he’d got into bed with her in the first place. And it was not because he was drunk. She'd agreed to crew for him until she reached her homeworld. After a week with an alien in his bed he was just tired of bedding them.

He reached his kiosk. The door slid open, probably controlled remotely from Ruigi's little office. He felt a flutter of near panic. He had never done this before, but first times count as experience. Isner was already gone be the time he stepped inside and the door closed behind him. Soft music played. The room, he realised, was soundproof. But very, very strangely, and he frowned deeply at that, he actually liked the tones, much like a piano, a familiar melody that touched the edges of his consciousness.

He seated himself in a deep armchair. In front was a small dais. Not much room for a dancer to maneuver her body. In front of him was a small table containing  a platter with sweet meats, wine and a glass. After pouring himself a glass of the wine - a pink liquid that looked innocent - he sat back in his chair and waited for the show to begin. It seemed to him everything was controlled by Ruigi. Shaking his head, he took the first sip, rolling the wine on his tongue, frowning a little at the sweet-acidic taste. But it warmed him instantly. He wondered how much smoke emanated from Isner’s monotril in the kiosk assigned to the Kirlean.

Then the music stopped. It was followed by a new melody that filled every corner of the booth. More sensual, he realised, a different instrument or instruments, a flute supported by tambourines with what sounded like castanets creating a drum roll. The warmth in his body created a series of waves. When was she coming? He was about to disgrace himself again just anticipating a female alien moving her lissom body just for him.

A door at the back slid noiselessly open.

Then she appeared in the doorway and instantly Amarr sat upright, his insides churning, his heart pounding. She placed one foot elegantly through the door. He gasped out loud. Damn! She was naked! Taut body painted all over, but doing very little to hide what he could clearly see or that his eyes directed him to, that area between her legs, her breasts.

The next shock caused a cascade in his brain because the woman was clearly human, a biped like him, precisely like him and every other human in the Federation. When she moved sensually on the stage, he finally dared to look at her face. Then he frowned.

"I thought I was the only human on this station," he murmured softly, more to himself than directed at the woman who, in another gyrating movement, leaped right over the dais towards him. Her face was painted in a muted burgundy shade, every part of it - her ears, eyes, forehead, chin, cheeks, lips. The colour merged with her hair, gelled sleekly back into long braids that trailed down her back. The contrasting design over the burgundy were white geometric jagged patterns in perfect symmetry down her eyes towards her jaw and across her lips. She moved with a grace unlike he had ever seen, the dance enchanting him. Her breasts, her lower body momentarily forgotten.

"What is your name?" he asked, his heart racing. He had to know this woman. She could be the answer to his prayers! Although he knew her name, he wanted to hear her voice.

But she kept dancing, a beauty that sucked the air from his lungs. He stood up, a deep, deep urge to know this woman, for she entranced him. He experienced a flash, a fleeting image of Isner who couldn't let go of the girl who charmed him and who wasn't supposed to do so.

His dancer stepped off the dais, and moved into his embrace, caressing his crotch with featherlight touches. He was hard as rock. He'd lost his reserve. She was releasing pheromones and he wasn't going to say no to her. A few more seconds she twirled around him, her hands busy as they traversed his body, grazed his mouth with her fingers, sliding them down his arms, over his buttocks, coming to rest on his bulge. He held his breath until he thought he'd pass out.

Then suddenly she returned to the dais, the abrupt desertion shocking and painful. He couldn't touch her, but it didn't mean she couldn't touch him. Was that how this elaborate game was played? She knew she had him. He knew he wanted more. He’d paid for her service. What if he wanted more? Her dancing had all but caught him in a web.

Amarr gazed at her. Of all the beauty painted on her, he never looked her directly in her eyes. They glowed darkly but also somewhat without life, as if she was simply performing a function, he realised with sudden clarity. The moment was gone the second she leaned forward again towards him, her eyes coming to life!

Then she smiled.

A curve at the corner of her mouth.

A flash of lightning in his brain. Ridiculously familiar when her lips lifted up at the side, as if mirth was hidden there with the promise of much more or the enjoyment of a humorous anecdote.

He had seen that smile a hundred, a thousand times in his life. He had seen that humorous lift at the corner everywhere he had been with her, his Kathryn. It had thrown him for a loop repeatedly when he thought he would never survive its onslaught on his senses. It harried him, it damned him, it enraged him, it pleased him and gave him joy. It was the smile that had haunted him for three years now on the face of this woman called Majja.

Her eyes, he only realised now, were blue-grey when she cocked her head to the side in a querying reaction to his expression. It couldn't be, but it was. It was! There was no denying, no uncertainty. No questions as to how, when and how. Just the immediate present.

"Kathryn?' he finally found his voice. "Kathryn? Kathryn!!!"

Majja frowned heavily, her eyes shifting nervously to the rear of the kiosk as if someone was watching her, then she returned his gaze.

"Kathryn, it's me! Chakotay!"

She opened her mouth slowly as her frown deepened, shaking her head in denial.

"I am afraid I do not know you, sir. My name is Majja."

With Kathryn Janeway's voice.

"No! You are Kathryn!"

Majja backed away from him, and when he tried stepped onto the dais, a forcefield shimmered into place. His palms hit the field, flinging him back against the kiosk entrance.

"Kathryn!" he cried again as she vanished behind the door through which she'd come minutes earlier.

********************

END CHAPTER 1

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Chakotay stumbled out of the kiosk, his mind in a whirl. A hundred scenarios contested for control of his brain. A hundred more kept the possibilities swirling in a miasma through which he found it impossible to define any single one. Except the first one - her name.

Kathryn Janeway.

That smile - his heart ached when he realised it was not for him as Chakotay, her former first officer, mentor and friend, but as a _client_ whom she had to satisfy that smile was recognisable throughout the Federation. Had not the entire Federation witnessed Janeway's smile when Voyager, escorted by a convoy of Starfleet vessels, reached Earth? Every man, woman and child of every known species in the Alpha Quadrant saw Captain Janeway as she stood on the bridge, proud, _smiling_! Had not he and every crewman and officer on Voyager seen that smile and the humorous twinkle in her eyes whenever she was elated, excited that they could advance a lightyear here and three lightyears there?

Even through the mounds of body paint and geometric designs that criss-crossed her face and lips, he knew it was Kathryn. There was no one else who could make his insides churn by that ridiculously familiar curve of her mouth. So many times on Voyager he'd sensed and gloried that her smile was for him and him alone.

She had him.  Isner's words came to him through the fog in his brain. " _They get to you every time_."

Then one by one, slowly, the other scenarios began to seek dominance.

_How did she get here?_

_How the hell did she end up doing what she was doing?_

_Her dancing, much like the cat sisters around their poles in the Green Bar was as lustful and wanton, if not more so._

_It was so far removed from the refined, aristocratic, sometimes aloof woman he knew, that he couldn't reconcile the two._

He had to see her again, tell her her real name, convince her that she was an admiral in Starfleet, that she was Captain Janeway of Voyager.

_Someone had scrambled her mind. Someone had turned her into what he'd seen tonight._

Of that he was convinced. Her eyes were not an amnesiac's eyes, but more _glazed_ like someone who'd been kept under a spell, drugged, or whatever.

However, all other possibilities had to give way to the one at the forefront - _he had to get her out of here._

Chakotay got up slowly, his head aching from the force of being thrown against the door of the kiosk. He tried to mount the stage again, but the shimmer just as he tried to pass his hand over the little arch kept him from venturing closer. There was no way he was going to see her tonight.

He had to see her again. He had to take her away.

He was going to need some help. He had a new friend. Isner was probably still in his kiosk. So he made his way to the Master of the House, ignoring the strange looks he got from the patrons in the main hall. Ruigi sat on his tall stool when Chakotay burst into the office, his eyes blazing.

"That woman," he began, curling his fingers round the alien's neck, "is _human_ , like me. She comes from Earth in a sector far from here. Who is she?"  He knew her real name but deliberately drew Ruigi out.

"She is Majja, our best," Ruigi choked and sputtered. Chakotay released his neck, causing the alien to stumble backwards. "You want more of her?" Ruigi asked, coughing. "You want to fuck her?"

Chakotay blanched at Ruigi's bluntness. But a thought came instantly to him. One latinum bar just to look and be ensnared. Ensnared! That was it! That was the way they worked. He realised at that moment what Isner was probably doing in his kiosk. What was the price? Why did Kathryn come at such a high price?

Ruigi appeared to know what he was thinking, responding mechanically like one who had to explain to every client.

"She is really good at fucking, Mr Amarr, because of her physiology."

Chakotay turned cold at Ruigi's words. Human women made good fuck slaves? Kathryn, polished, proactive, sophisticated Kathryn levelled to a prostitute, made to service clients who preferred her body? He banked down his rising fury and mounting concern for her safety. He had to rescue Kathryn, knowing he had to work fast without rousing the suspicion of the establishment. He felt like weeping inside at what she was made to do.

If he acted as if he wanted more, like the "look, don't touch" first viewing implied, that was the route he had to go. Let them think he wanted more. There was always a catch. He took the bait, now he wanted the fish.

"I will come tomorrow night," he said, trying not to look too upset at what Kathryn was doing. "How much?"

"For look, don't touch?"

Almost, Chakotay grabbed Ruigi by the throat again. "You know what I mean, you fool!"

"Five latinum bars."

_For you, Kathryn, I will do whatever it takes._

"Ten gold strip latinum bars and she is to see no one else, got that?" Chakotay suddenly barked, grabbing Ruigi's neck again and threatening to throttle the life out of him. " _Ten_. No, make it _fifteen_!" Ruigi stumbled backwards as Chakotay released him suddenly, to open his sling bag, fishing five latinum bars from it. He looked at the bars in his hand before slapping them down hard on the small table. Then he grabbed Ruigi again and pulled him close, nose to nose. "Here's my down payment. I am Amarr Kotay. Don't make me kill you if you don't do as I request. I'll have the rest when I come here twenty hours from now. Tell her handler he's a dead man if he farms her out to any other clients the rest of this evening and tomorrow. I am watching you and by the spirits, my eyes are on him. She is mine for the night. Is that _understood_?" Ruigi's head lolled as Chakotay punctuated every word with a jerking of the alien's neck.

Chakotay let him go so suddenly this time that Ruigi flew backwards over the stool. When the alien  finally recovered, he wiped his already sweaty brow. There was fear in his eyes as he regarded Amarr.

"Yes, yes, I shall let her owner know. She will be yours exclusively tomorrow, I swear. They move from station to station and will be here twenty more days before traveling to the next location."

It was vital information Ruigi shared out of fear.

"What is the name of his vessel?"

Chakotay reached for Ruigi's thin neck again, but this time he managed to jump out of the way.

"The Vodar," Ruigi managed in a voice decidedly thinner than his usual boom. "I do not know where it is docked."

"That's enough for now. Remember, fifteen bars of latinum. She is to be given only to me. Is that understood? You will make it possible, you hear me? You don't do that, I will find her owner and then I'll enjoy killing him if you don't arrange my private viewing my way. Now, in which kiosk is my friend Isner?"

"Kiosk Nine. He takes the same woman every time. She is of his species."

Chakotay grinned inwardly. No doubt Isner carried enough latinum to buy sex from his girl who wasn't supposed to like him. Isner must have been slammed against the door of his kiosk many times trying to step onto the dais. Only now Chakotay understood. The girls all had handlers who protected their investments.

Clutching his sling bag tighter to him, he strode purposefully towards Kiosk 9 and banged on the door.

"Isner! Come out! Come out now!"

"Hey! Quiet!"

He didn't care. His trusted d'k tahg had silenced many an irritated patron who tried to attack him for disturbing their enjoyment. Chakotay waited a few minutes before a dishevelled Isner opened the door of the kiosk, smoke still pouring from his monotril. Through the half open door, Chakotay saw the woman exit stealthily through the back opening of the kiosk.

"You could have waited, Amarr. I was just - "

"Enjoying yourself? How much did you pay for sex?"

"Five. For Nera I'll pay more."

"Come with me to the transports. We need to talk."

Without waiting, Chakotay turned and headed for the main entrance of the Glitter Pit, waving a warning finger in the direction of Ruigi who stood smirking just outside his office.

This time it was Isner who followed Chakotay along the same route they'd arrived towards the transports. When they reached their destination, the area was deserted. It suited Chakotay just fine. He pulled the taller Isner to him, his eyes burning into his friend's. Isner was still puffing, most likely from the marathon sex he'd had with his Nera.

"My friend," Isner blustered, "are you going to tell me why you dragged me from my comfort?" 

Isner still sounded out of breath. Chakotay doubted that he had any left, because Isner began to take in deep gulps of air. The smoke had meanwhile stopped. Finally Isner managed to straighten up, although he still appeared a little drunk.

"The woman in my kiosk," Chakotay began, "is a human, like me. I thought I was the only human on Darog Bohl."

"And?"

Then Chakotay changed his tack.

"Who was the woman you were with? She is of your species."

Isner's face creased suddenly. Chakotay thought he was going to cry. Isner rubbed his hands together, looked this way and that until he faced Chakotay again.

"She is my wife, Amarr. She was abducted from my home a year ago and sold to a handler to service clients and make the owners rich. I have searched for her until I discovered her on Darog Bohl, in the service of a very bad man."

"Is that why you pay so much to be with her?"

"So that she services fewer men. Her name is Nera, but here she is known by another name. I have tried everything, but my friend, they drug the women. They alter their memories too. My wife does not know who I really am or that her real name is Nera."

Isner gave a deep sigh and Chakotay felt a keen empathy with the man, realising that beneath Isner's careless type of existence was a man who pined for his beloved.

"What about the human woman you were with, Amarr? You looked very disturbed when you knocked on my kiosk…interrupting me. You said she is human, like you, but that is not all, is it? You seem to know her."

He didn't want to reveal too much, but the urgency to get Kathryn away from her slave existence was paramount. It shocked him initially that she didn't know him, but they'd had too many outlandish experiences in the Delta Quadrant so he understood almost immediately what had brought on that glazed look in her eyes. But he'd recovered from his shock quickly, already strategising about a rescue mission. Although it seemed he couldn't hide his distress from Isner.

And then…Kathryn looked magnificent in that body paint. Magnificent and brave, he thought with sudden clarity.

She was brave. How did that just enter into his thinking? She was brave!

"Yes, I know her, Isner. I know her very well. We were officers on the same starship for a long time. She thinks she is Majja, but her name is Kathryn Janeway."

"Did you expect to see her in that kiosk?" asked Isner, still looking sad.

"No, no, not at all."

"Were you searching for her like I searched for my wife?"

"I must get her out of there," Chakotay responded, ignoring Isner's question. "But I need your help. You know this station better than I do. We will get both women out."

It warmed him to see the sadness replaced by new hope in Isner's eyes. He just needed someone to help him, Chakotay realised. They would work much better if they joined forces.

"How?" Isner asked.

"This is where my ship is docked," Chakotay said, giving Isner his coordinates. "Meet me there tomorrow at 1200. You must be armed. How good are you at hand-to-hand combat?"

"As good as you think you are, Amarr. Is that even your real name?"

Chakotay sighed.

"No. My name is Chakotay, and don't worry about the latinum. I have to go back to my ship."

When the transport arrived, Chakotay left first. He had to disembark at the station closest to where the New Liberty was docked. It was another twenty minute journey but he spent it deep in thought, thinking about Kathryn.

Meeting her had been unexpected, a monumental shock a but also a giant relief. She had never returned from her vacation three years ago. He had to be back on the New Liberty to plan how to get Kathryn out of the Glitter Pit to safety, to home.

First, there were things to be done; the impatience to board his vessel was eating at his insides.

************

Once inside the New Liberty, Chakotay practically collapsed at the conn. He covered his face with trembling hands. Only now did he allow the  reaction to set in. His body shook for several minutes as  hard sobbing wracked his frame.

Images swirled in his brain of how Kathryn had looked, how she didn't recognise him, paint covering her nude body that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, of the way she sidled shamelessly up and down his body, her insistent touching designed to make him beg for more.

Isner was right when he referred to the clubs and what they were doing as the immoral subculture of many a space station. There were no rules, no laws that guided anyone and which made trafficking with women unseen in the station's underbelly and in fact, across many sectors of the quadrant. Chakotay grimaced. He'd read of the writings of a great Earth philosopher at the turn of the twenty first century, who wrote, "If the human condition, its failings, its propensity to do harm could not change in two thousand years, what would make anyone think that it will change for the better in the next thousand?"

Sex trafficking was nothing new. Even here in a corner of the Gamma Quadrant, men gave in to the basest of their urges, never once questioning the right or wrong of their actions.

 _Kathryn…Kathryn…_ her name throbbed through him in unending longing, in unending pain as he remembered how she looked tonight, what she was expected to do, how men pawed and lusted.

When his agonised weeping finally subsided, Chakotay wiped his face. He drew in a deep, calming breath, counting silently for several seconds before his breathing evened out. Then his hands went to the conn panel.

"Preparing for subspace message…" he began as his fingers flew over the keys. When a short beep sounded, the decoded relay was ready for long range transmission on a single, secret Federation subspace band.

 

_2381_

_To Admiral Owen Paris - Starfleet Command - United Federation of Planets, Alpha Quadrant._

_I have found Kathryn Janeway at last. She is in good health but is in captivity. Rescue mission planned to bring her to safety and home. Will keep you updated. Please let her mother and sister know I have found her._

_Captain Chakotay - New Liberty._

When he closed communication again, he dropped his face in his palms. He traced the events back to that fateful night before Voyager docked at Earth's Orbital Station…three bitter years ago…

*****

**Three years ago…**

He lay on his back, looking at her while she dressed. She gave a wry, sad smile as she smoothed down her jacket, her hands brushing over her hips. Moments before she'd been naked, her body connected to his. They'd made love through the night, sleeping intermittently before waking to find her straddling him, or caressing his lower body.

Never before had he felt like he wanted to drown in Kathryn Janeway's blood, or simply let her assimilate him the way she'd made him feel. He had cried out his need many times during the night.

Then there were the quiet moments in which they didn't speak but lay in each other's arms, pondering over a future in which he was not hers and she was not his. He felt wanted. A lover who worshipped her, who allowed his tongue and his hands and fingers to trail searing paths over her body. He'd experienced blinding flashes, as surely as a bolt of lightning had burst across the sky when her lips rested on his tattoo.  To him this was no one night affair, even as his mind screamed that it was. For he loved her when they kissed, he loved her when he lay over her, buried deep in her sheath, unwilling to disengage and lose the bond with her, he loved her when she'd lain over him, planting kisses on his face, his chest, caressing his nipples making him ready for her again.

He loved her when she had come to him the previous night and asked him to make love to her. He loved her when he realised how much courage it must have taken to ask.

"Kathryn, you know about me and Seven. Why - "

Her saw her fleeting shame as she asked for a memory. That was all Kathryn wanted - a memory, for he had already made a promise to Seven of Nine. And he had stood in front of her, briefly torn by indecision, by a moral code that should have prevented him from agreeing to Kathryn's request. Seven was spending  the night in her regeneration chamber, and already he could feel his loins heating just inhaling Kathryn's perfume.

She'd already turned to leave when he stepped forward and grasped her shoulder, turning her to face him. Her eyes, the hesitant smile, the shame mingled with hope broke his resolve. With a soft cry, he crushed her lips beneath his. Then he was lost. His guilt could wait while he made love to the Captain of Voyager, to his best friend whom he loved but who'd kept him at arm's length for seven long years.

Now, in the bright light of day, she stood in front of him, dressed neatly in her uniform. She would leave for her own quarters and probably not care who saw her, what new scuttlebutt would be entertained on Voyager's entry to Earth after seven years. She would most likely go to her quarters and take another shower. Not that she hadn't done the quick sonic version in his bathroom, but in about half an hour’s time when she stood on the bridge of her ship, there'd still be traces of her night of love clinging to her whole body. Like Janeway pheromones visible for all to see.

"You okay?"  He felt he had to ask.

She gave him a quirky smile.

"Thank you, Chakotay."

He nodded, watching her leave his quarters quietly. He lay there a few minutes revelling in the memory of how her pliant body had moulded to his, his body still trembling in the aftermath, golden desire still spiralling through him.

With a sigh, he rose and walked quickly to the bathroom. Half an hour later, he joined Kathryn on the bridge, smiled at her, received the quirky lift of her lips in return and continued as if they had not made love during the night.

****

Kathryn Janeway married Vice-Admiral Daryl Wentworth two months later while he shacked up with Seven of Nine, who woke up one morning telling him it was over. Just like that, as if she'd had a magnificent epiphany just seconds before. He had wanted to scream because Kathryn was lost to him. He'd seen her in the company of Wentworth at social functions, had once met them while they were visiting the art museum in New York. How had he missed the too tight hold Wentworth had on her arm? He'd suffered resentment that she found someone so quickly. But he'd made his bed and so had she.

How two events coincided so dramatically, he still couldn't fathom: Kathryn marrying practically on the same morning Seven of Nine called it quits between then. The sex was adequate, as Annika herself would have said, but she had little frame of reference. To her it was probably great, but if his heart couldn't be in it completely at least in that she was astute enough to see that she needed more and he wasn't giving it to her.

It was the low point in his life. Relief and regret - the latter winning out so forcefully that he'd wandered around for days like he'd lost an anchor or bobbed rudderless on the open sea. He'd been promoted to captain, but was still awaiting a vessel. He hadn't wanted Voyager because it held so many memories of happier days between him and Kathryn, days that were forever relegated to the past. It was two months later that he'd been called to Headquarters after a short period teaching a master class at the Academy.

He'd greeted Admiral Paris, surprised to also see another admiral who was a stranger to him. Also present was Gretchen Janeway who introduced the stranger as her husband, Adam Ponsonby.

"Gentlemen," he said after he acknowledged their greeting, "why am I here?"

Paris cleared his throat. Chakotay always marvelled how like Tom Paris his old man's eyes were. Then he frowned. This was no ordinary meeting. Kathryn had still been on her vacation. He'd heard through the grapevine  that they'd be back in six weeks. They were two weeks overdue. Nothing wrong with couples extending their holiday. Kathryn probably needed it, he'd thought.

"Uh…is anything wrong?" he asked Owen Paris. He glanced at Gretchen Janeway who looked very, very worried. Perhaps there was more to the overdue two weeks than he'd imagined. He didn't really want to meet Kathryn again and be reminded of his colossal mistake in letting her go.

"As you know, Admiral Janeway and her husband are on vacation. We have just received a communication on long range sensors that their shuttle, one of the USS Gainsbourg's, crash-landed on a moon of the third planet of the Goran system in sector 748. Apparently the shuttle was under attack by an unknown vessel or vessels."

Chakotay turned cold at the admiral's words.

"Debris? Life signs?" he asked.

"There were traces of DNA belonging to Daryl Wentworth. There was nothing but disintegrated remains of Kathryn's husband, Captain Chakotay."

Admiral Paris paused, sighing deeply. Chakotay glanced again at Gretchen Janeway and Admiral Ponsonby. They appeared extremely worried, and, he realised with sudden clarity, hopeful. What could he do?

"Admiral Janeway? What happened to her?" he asked, his voice edged with dread.

"There was absolutely no trace around the wreckage of the DNA of Kathryn Janeway, Captain. It was as if she never existed."

"Who shot them down?" he wanted to know.

Again, Admiral Paris sighed.

"We believe they were ambushed. As yet we cannot determine why. At this point we can only speculate. Abduction seems very likely."

"It's only two weeks, Admiral. She might still be in any of the neighbouring sectors."

"We cannot send in an armada or even one of our intrepid class starships - "

"Voyager?"

"No. That is not the strategy we have in mind," Paris said quickly. "Captain, we called you here for a very important task."

"Please, find her, Captain," Gretchen Janeway pleaded.

"I've only just become acquainted with her," Ponsonby started, "but she is as dear to me as she is to her mother and all who know her."

"We feel we can trust only one man to bring Kathryn home. We fear very much for her safety. We believe she has been abducted and taken deeper into the Gamma Quadrant. The longer we wait, the further she will be taken. We all firmly believe she is alive, Captain - "

"How can you be so sure?"

"Only her commbadge was found, about twenty metres from the crashed shuttle. Whoever took her must have thrown it there."

For the first time Chakotay saw the commbadge on Paris' desk. "That is the commbadge?" he asked.

Ponsonby nodded.

So he’d spent two hours with the three of them hammering out a strategy. They knew of his attachment to Kathryn, of his separation from Seven of Nine. They needed his Maquis experience in tracking down the perpetrators and finding Kathryn. Gretchen had gripped his arm tightly when she said again, "Please bring my daughter home, Captain."

A communique was sent out that Vice-Admiral Daryl Wentworth had been killed while on vacation and that Admiral Janeway was also presumed dead.

"Best of luck, Captain," Admiral Paris said when he left the office. They told him to do whatever it took to succeed in his mission. He knew what he had to do and to do it, he had to go under cover. So he "resigned" from Starfleet, ostensibly shattered at Kathryn Janeway's death.

He loved Kathryn even then, when she was no longer his to love. Her disappearance tore him apart. In the days leading up to his resignation from Starfleet, he'd gone into hiding, away from Seven with whom he'd remained friends, from B'Elanna and Tom who couldn't stop asking questions, from his sister who, in her quiet and understanding way, accepted that he pined for Kathryn Janeway.

He pined, but little did they know of his mission, of a discreet, secret communique from Admiral Paris about the real life of Daryl Wentworth. It made searching for Kathryn even more urgent.

So he kept pictures of her, holovids of the years on Voyager, watching them from time to time in order to keep his hopes alive. Kathryn had a family to come home to; she had him to come home to.

The first place he visited was the crash site; after that he communicated exclusively with Admiral Paris. Aside from Gretchen Janeway and Adam Ponsonby, no one else knew where he'd gone.

******

**The present**

He stood under the sonic shower, his mind still on the images of Kathryn in the kiosk. He gave another hard sob, more like expelling a forceful gust of air. There were still so many unknowns, but the fact that emerged like a beacon above everything else was that he had less than twenty hours to effect a rescue.

To do so, he had to get into the kiosk legally. To her he was a client, a lecherous male wanting a good time and value for money. It stabbed him right through his chest that he had to approach his rescue that way.

Twenty minutes later, he sat down and ate something, though he didn't have much of an appetite. He wondered suddenly what kind of food Kathryn ate, whether she missed her coffee or whether there was an equivalent of the beverage here.

_If not, she can have all the coffee she wants. I'll find the nearest nebula for her, providing there are no marauders hiding in there._

He still wondered how much longer his search would have been if he hadn't accompanied Isner to the Glitter Pit. Chakotay rose suddenly as if a thought struck him. He walked past his cabin to a door across the corridor and pressed the panel. The door slid open.

The cabin was larger than his own, furnished like Kathryn's quarters on Voyager. It had remained empty for three years, but here and there were things Kathryn's mother had given, from her teen years - books, a little bear called Gracie, as well as a computer with all the latest updates from Starfleet Command and Federation news which the admirals relayed via subspace from time to time. And next to her vidcom lay her commbadge which he kept updated to the latest Federation frequency standards and signals. Clothing could be replicated, as well as her favourite foods, her favourite table wine, her coffee, pecan pie.

He gave a deep sigh. That she had undergone some form of mind-altering was very clear . It just made his job a little more difficult to reintegrate her memories so that she could recognise him. She could look at pictures of her mother and sister, her stepfather, an offspring of her dog Molly, the crew of Voyager. He gave a little grimace. What everyone in the Federation knew was that Kathryn's husband had been killed and that Kathryn had died of her injuries. Once Kathryn's memory was restored, how would she react to the kind of life she had been forced to lead?

It was better that they believed she had died and he had greater freedom to roam about the quadrant, answering only to himself and not having to worry about the safety and well-being of a crew. Besides, from the outset the admirals had told him there was no time limit on his search. They made sure though, that he could always barter for latinum, that he was never short of funds or dilithium to power his ship. In fact, as it was outlined at the start: whatever it took was whatever he'd do. Even if he had to kill.

He had work to do the next day that would keep him busy half the morning just planning his mission, then awaiting Isner's arrival. He gave a satisfied sigh when he finally hit the pillow realising he hadn't slept in well over forty hours.

The last image he saw was Kathryn in her burgundy body paint smiling seductively at him.

**************

END CHAPTER 2


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Dorron moved slowly, lazily above her, his bony hands clutching the side of her head, his breathing erratic, like she always knew when he was near to spilling into her. She was used to this, so used to it that the men he always ordered her to service were just ports entered into her vessel, expelling their fluids into her willing body.

She had to be willing, was always so, just after Dorron injected her with the drug he also used on two of his other girls. She was his best, he always said. When the drug entered her body, she found it unable to hold back, her entire being connected to another and yet another client, the passion unbridled yet controlled. All she wanted then was to scream as they reached the pinnacle.

Majja had always wondered how her body would react to a client if it were free of the drug he used. He called it pheromones which he cloned from other females of different species. In her, it just heightened her sexuality and the need to have her body ravaged by an alien.

What would it be like? Had she not had a different kind of sexual connection before? If he had to manipulate her sexuality, was there a time when she was normal? Without the incentive he always used to get her clients? Always, she wondered about that.

"Lie still, my little dove," Dorron complained as he thrust harder. "Don't let me punish you again…" 

His voice sounded gruff as he began to pound into her. He was strong and his loins hard, harder than any of the clients she'd serviced before. She felt like protesting, but Dorron sensed when she subconsciously tried to push him away from her. And always, a thin syringe lay near her head, ready for him to inject her again.

He mated with her every morning after she had worked more than half the night. Most of the time she just danced for her clients, but the wealthy paid the extra to mate with her. Sighing, Majja complied and moved in concert with him, never striking an atonal note or simply voicing her concern or tiredness. She had nowhere to look but into Dorron's eyes, since he held her head, making it impossible for her to thrash around. She was heating up, the fire spreading through her as she urged him deeper into her.

"Now you belong to me, my little bird. I am good for you, am I not? Tell me it is so," he'd say as he controlled her body, constantly moving as the pheromones took effect. Then she'd enjoy mating with him, rough entries some mornings when she was too tired to do anything, and at others the smooth sliding into her. He never fondled her before mating, but the moment he began moving, she knew it would not be necessary, for she'd already be sweating, gasping loudly that he continue, as the flames of desire became unbearable.

"You are not focusing, Majja," Dorron grumbled above her. But he was lodged deep inside her, forcing her to comply.

Then suddenly he pulled out completely.

"Damn you!" he yelled, slapping her twice across her face. She did not weep. She never wept. Maybe a time long ago she had shed tears, but to fight Dorron was always futile.

_"Resistance is futile…"_

Somewhere she had heard that, but before she could try and imagine where or how, Dorron slapped her again. A moment later he stuck the needle in her neck. She could feel the liquid rushing through her blood vessels, instantly transforming her objection to compliance. She became pliant again and once more Dorron spread her legs and thrust roughly into her. The next hour or so, she gave her body to him, unable to prevent herself from feeling desire rushing through her, craving for completion. She climaxed three times, the way he liked it, to hear her screaming her delight.

When he finished, Dorron stood up, still erect. He would soon go into the wash room to clean himself and dress again. She remained on the wide bed, still in the aftermath of her climaxing, still shuddering from the spirals of pleasure that had ripped through her. Her eyes were wet, her face flushed, burning. She still wore her body paint, most of it smeared from her activity. There were times Dorron didn't care and he'd claim her the way her clients had done the night before.

It gave her time to think as she lay there, oblivious of her nakedness, her hand stealing to her centre where she caressed her sticky folds. Now she could wonder about that strange client of last night. There was a wildness in his eyes as he told her that he knew her. She thought that many men knew her. But this man was different. He was human, like her. She had not seen humans in the last two years, so she'd overcome her initial surprise at seeing this stranger.

He called her Kathryn. He told her he was Chakotay.

Then he must know her, surely? From a life swathed in thick mists that prevented her from accessing corners of her brain to find that life? She tried mouthing Chakotay's name. He spoke the language she did. But then that was not unusual. Tam spoke the same language as her client who always chose her to mate with. And Tam was always happy when he came to service her.

Chakotay. Kathryn.

Chakotay seemed to know that life she must have belonged to. Perhaps he was part of that life.

And then the strangest, most bizarre thing happened to her body. When she’d caressed his crotch, he had become very hard. A flash went off in her head, her breathing had quickened. She smelled him and it teased her memory, a tantalising wisp of knowledge that he was familiar to her and she to him, that it was not just knowing of him. But too soon, Dorron brought the forcefield down.

Majja sighed deeply. If only she could get away from this life! But it was impossible. She had tried before, but Dorron had simply thrown her down on the ground, pulled his pants down and let her understand in no uncertain terms how much she remained tied to him. Then he'd always end with, "After everything I have done for you. You are mine."

She owed him much, she supposed. She would have been alone in the sector in which she found herself. But she was Majja, the name he gave her. She was his property, to be given to men for profit. Sometimes she could feel a niggling jolt of a memory, like something familiar was returning to her. That was when Dorron produced the injector, much different from the pheromone needles. He'd stick it into her neck and she would cry out from the searing pain. Minutes later she would be a little lame, her eyes on him, reaching for him as if he were her saviour. She feared the injector with all her might, for every time he used it on her, it felt to her that she moved further and further away from all those little pricks of memories.

"Who are you, my little dove?" he'd ask.

"Majja, who loves you. You do everything for me. Please, mate with me now."

And he'd mate with her, this alien being, not of her race, but similar  were it not for his nose, the ears that were red, the pattern of the raised skin on his forehead. She would be his all night, her body singing to his touches. Then she wanted him like never before. She was Majja, his Majja.

Now her thoughts drifted to the stranger, the one who was tanned, with a peculiar marking on his left brow.

Another blinding flash, all of a sudden, of seeing him smiling at her, standing in a forest glade. He was relaxed, like someone at peace. He pointed to her hands and when she looked, saw that they were covered in soil. She wore a blue dress and she sensed an aching joy that surged through her when she gazed at the smiling man.

Then suddenly the image was gone. Majja frowned at the feeling of loss, a tear trickling down her cheek. She wiped at it, wondering how she could weep when she had not done so before.

Sighing, Majja rose from the bed when she heard Dorron leave the washroom. He didn't come into the bedroom again, but strode to his control room where he'd be busy for some time setting up new clients, especially those who booked in advance. She rushed to the washroom to clear her body of Dorron's fluids, her own sweat, the body paint that had to be scrubbed from her body. Tonight, she'd have to have her body painted again, a job usually done by Dorron's older women who no longer serviced clients. Tonight, white with black markings was what Linnea suggested.

They were still in the vast back rooms of the Glitter Pit, a network of apartments for the owners and their slave girl dancers. She wanted so much to get back to the Vodar, Dorron's ship. She thought of Drew and her heart gave a sudden lurch as the water streamed down her body. Dorron allowed her to see Drew only once a week. It would be three whole days before she saw him again.

Sometimes he allowed her to work the controls of the ship. She did maintenance work on the engines, the warp core, the ship's phaser banks, a crude unit that operated like a replicator. Then she often wondered how much she really knew and whether that was part of her life that was shrouded in thick mists.

Was she really Kathryn? The name fell from Chakotay's lips like a cherish, soft and loving and urgent. Did she love once?

Shaking her head, she dressed quickly once she finished in the washroom. Almost she forgot to pin on her communicator, her vital link to understanding the many different tongues spoken by species with which they came in contact. She had learned the rudiments of Dorron's language and could understand when he spoke to her without the use of the communicator.

She had not eaten in almost eighteen hours and hunger gnawed at her insides. In a small alcove was a table laid with food that Dorron usually ordered from the Glitter Pit's restaurant. Sighing, she sat down to eat. The girls were never allowed into the main area of the tavern. It was time away from Dorron, from work, just to be on her own to reflect.

"Majja!!"

Majja rocked to attention when Dorron stood right behind her and yanked her by her still wet hair. She cried out in alarm, then almost choked on her food. She nearly toppled over backwards from her stool.

"What is it, Dorron?" she cried out, unable to hide her distress.

"We will be rich tonight! That fool Ruigi only informed me now of a new client!"

"New client?" she asked as she recovered from the shock of the sudden pain in her head.

"You know, my little dove," Dorron spoke into her ear, "how we lure your men with the promise of 'look, don't touch' so they come back for more."

She managed to nod. Most of the time she just danced and caressed the men, but many times they paid the extra for more than just touching.

"There was one last night, Dorron, who seemed to want more. I think I distressed him more than we expected." She kept her voice non-committal, but managing to sound interested. "Is that the one?"

"Yes, he has already paid five bars of latinum, with ten more when he arrives tonight! I am told his name is Amarr Kotay. He will pay ten more bars tonight!"

"Yes, Dorron."

"You will perform as never before. Given him everything, my little bird, just like you give to me. He wants only you. He - "

"What is it, Dorron?" Majja asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No, sweet bird. But he has requested that no one else touch you today, you're to be his exclusive property in Kiosk 7."

"Amarr Kotay…" she said his name reflectively, wondering how a sudden image of a smiling man in the forest glade could come to her. A man who had dimples when he smiled. A sudden tightness in her chest caused her to clutch her bosom.

"Ah, I see my little bird already is worked up for her new client tonight. Think about it! Fifteen bars of latinum!"

After which Dorron left her alone. She could go back to her room and sit at her crude vidcom that she was allowed to use. No texts of her own language, though she wrote many little stories, mostly for Drew. Sighing, she realised how hard it had been to create the alphabet fonts just to be able to write in English. She had not encountered her language through their travels from space station to space station. That was as much as she knew. Her language was English. Drew learned new words whenever she was allowed to visit him. She worried about him, that he was not among English speaking humans where he could learn much faster. She wrote a new story, one about a warrior princess and a warrior who joined his tribe with hers.

Some time later, Linnea arrived from one of the other apartments to begin preparing her for the evening's entertainment. She had already practiced her dance routines and would, as soon as Linnea completed the body paint, use the spare room lined with mirrors to continue rehearsing. Sighing, she rose from the stool and greeted Linnea, a Krepekian like Dorron, but a kindly woman.

"Are you ready, Majja?" Linnea asked.

"I am to be given exclusively to one client only tonight," she said. "He has paid a lot of money for the privilege."

"I heard. Do not ask me how I know. I tell you that you are fortunate, to be only one man's property."

"I am tired, Linnea, of - of doing this, you know?"

Linnea began gently painting over Majja's breasts, brushing smoothly for the first covering which was completely white. Majja had been in white before, and were it not for the red and black geometric designs down her face and across her bosom, she would look ghostly. Even her hair was painted and brushed tightly back into a set of curls.

Linnea sighed as she reached Majja's thighs.

"We cannot escape, Majja. You know what happens when you try."

"He just punishes me more," Majja whispered.

"Who is your client tonight? Do you know his name?"

"Amarr Kotay."

Then, a sudden flash of the man in the kiosk who cried out desperately to her, that her name was Kathryn and his name was Chakotay.

"I heard of the client last night. He is of your race, Majja. Do you think that strange?"

Majja did not reply. Instead she pictured Chakotay as he tried to reach past the forcefield to her. Could he be the saviour she dreamed about so often? How she wished Amarr Kotay and Chakotay was the same person.  She frowned deeply.

"Please, Majja, do not frown so, you are creating crease lines in the paint!" Linnea warned her.

Majja instantly relaxed her face. She realised how the last name of Amarr Kotay could be also the last part of Chakotay's name. Was it the same person? Chakotay had desperately tried to grab her, because he must know her. Was it possible that the same man could pay so much to be serviced by her? Her heart fluttered erratically for a moment. Perhaps, when it was time to perform and while she touched him and did the things she was supposed to do, she could plead that he take her away.

Why would she ask him such a question? But she knew the answer implicitly. Chakotay was Amarr Kotay and she could trust him to take her and Drew away from here. Wherever he went or took them, she didn't care - just far, far away from this life.

The body paint dried smoothly on her skin. Unless she sweated profusely, it wouldn't wash off for at least three to four hours. She had herself suggested to Dorron to mix new chemicals and percentages of colours and textures so as not to discolour or damage her own skin. With only crude regenerators used in several sectors in the quadrant, she'd been able to repair broken and burnt skin. It was the one concession Dorron made, for the paint used on her was different from the chemical compositions used on the dancers of other species.

She had an instinctive knowledge about chemistry and science in general and therefore was allowed limited access to Dorron's machines and other computers. Yet, try as she might, she could never effect an escape. She'd tried once before and after that she'd lost hope because of Drew. Dorron kept them separated so that she could never abandon Drew. He was what kept her alive and kept her hoping and kept her tied to Dorron.

When the drugs were on the cusp of wearing off, she could think and sometimes, but very rarely, get fleeting glimpses of her past. She saw herself in the forest glade for instance, in a blue dress. She even saw Amarr Kotay-Chakotay dressed just like she had seen him yesterday in leathered garments, but on a ship. Just teasing flashes of red…

Sighing, Majja lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. A headache developed just trying to bore into her brain to unlock the Kathryn Amarr Kotay-Chakotay said she was. She had rested earlier in the day after Linnea had completed her make-up. When she'd woken up, Linnea told her she'd slept for three hours. She'd simply nodded, glad that she'd slept so long. Dorron had kept her awake most of the night and she had needed sleep.

Under the paint she was completely naked. She touched her centre and caressed the soft folds briefly. Her eyes became wet again and she wondered how in the past twenty four hours she had wanted to weep like never before. She imagined Amarr Kotay-Chakotay sitting in the big chair in Kiosk 7, how he would react to seeing her. A soft sob escaped her. She thought of the previous clients who enjoyed making love with her, and how she had been like a tigress drawing all their lust from them, herself so shameless that they always wanted more. Never before had she known any names of any of the suitors. Now for the first time, she was to know the man whom she had to seduce with her nude dancing.

Dorron would make more money and she? She got nothing.

An hour before she was to appear in front of the sliding door that led into Kiosk 7, Dorron came with two syringes.

"A double dose of both, my little bird. If you do well, I'll take you to see Drew…" her handler purred into her ear again.

"You always say that, Dorron, then you never take me to see him."

"I get fifteen bars of latinum tonight. I'm in a vein to give you a little pleasure, yes? Tonight, you'll be at your best. We have to get him back for more visits!"

Majja jerked away from him, then closed her eyes as Dorron roughly opened her legs and thrust his fingers between them.

"Not wet enough. Do not fight me, little bird. You know what will happen when you do."

So Majja stood still while Dorron administered the first injection - the pheromones to accelerate her sexual appetite. Instantly she felt the rushing of her blood, the heat that travelled through her system and the wetness between her legs. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to control her heightened libido, but the overriding force of lustful emotion was already part of her system. She knew she was lost.

"Now for the memory inhibitor…" Dorron purred again. He looked ready to pull down his pants and throw himself on her, but tonight she was merchandise.

Majja cried out in pain when the injector plunged into her neck. Within moments she looked at him with glazed eyes. No more could she think of forest glades and blue dresses. They were gone from her memory. When she entered her Kiosk to dance, her client would simply be a strange man, like all strange men.

"Good, good," Dorron said as he kissed her mouth. "You are ready, little bird."

He guided her to the sliding door. She could only obey. Dorron left her and walked quickly to his control room from where he would open and close doors and raise forcefields.

"Now, Majja," he called from the control room. "Your client waits. Dance for him! Give him your body!"

The door slid open.

************

END CHAPTER 3

 TBC


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

Chakotay woke with a start when his vidcom beeped. It was a very particular sound - short, low-pitched, unlike the usual federation signals and beeps used for normal communication. This one was subtle but instantly recognisable and one he had trained himself to identify as an urgent, subspace message.

Rubbing his eyes, Chakotay slid out of bed to the small alcove that served as his office. He smiled grimly. It was probably late afternoon for the admirals at Starfleet Command or afternoon when they sent their message. He always got it in what was to his internal clock the dead of night. He entered a complicated set of codes before communication opened.

The familiar Federation insignia was quickly replaced by the face of Owen Paris. A sigh escaped Chakotay when he noted the admiral's uniform. He had himself been out of Starfleet uniform for three years. A smile relaxed Admiral Paris' usually stern face. Then Chakotay pressed another key for the message to start. The face on the screen became at once animated.

_Captain Chakotay_

_I cannot tell you what a relief it was to hear that Kathryn is alive and under the circumstances, well. I understand that you indicated she is currently in captivity. Kathryn and I were once prisoners in a Cardassian stronghold and I believe you were also once imprisoned by them. I can be in absolutely no doubt as to what she must be going through as a captive._

_Therefore, be instructed once again to use any means necessary to rescue her and bring her home. Based on the coordinates of your current location, it will be at least six months before you are in Federation space again._

_We are sending you all the specifications for enhanced warp drive for the New Liberty which Harry Kim, Tom, Seven of Nine and B'Elanna Torres have been working on for the past year. We were always hoping that you'd find Kathryn Janeway, Captain, and working on installing these new enhanced warp systems will shorten your journey by more than half._

_I have informed Kathryn's mother and Ponsonby of the good news. Please keep us updated._

_Good luck on your mission, Captain._

It was good to hear another voice as if Paris sat just across from him and they conducted a pleasant conversation. He was afraid he'd begun to talk to himself in recent months. At least now Isner, his new crony, could relieve that particular condition. Chakotay downloaded the information and then switched off the vidcom, wide awake now. The enhanced drive specifications pleased him, for the New Liberty could be practically home in half the time. He would start working on installing the new warp drive once Kathryn was safe on his ship. With sudden insight, he realised why Paris had sent the information only now. He’d never needed it before, taking his time to roam the sectors in search of Kathryn. Now Kathryn with her science experience could actually develop the new warp systems herself.

As soon as he got her to safety. As soon as all the gunk he'd suspected she been injected with had left her body.

Dressing after a quick shower, he sat down to enjoy a bowl of replicated oatmeal. He grinned. Some of the parts on the New Liberty had been taken off Federation derelicts. Others, like his state of the art replicators, had been upgraded using new specifications to improve on existing ones, sent courtesy of the office of Owen Paris. Chakotay wondered if Kathryn would eat porridge. No, not likely. She would probably like coffee and toast and orange juice with fruit cells and marmalade and eggs, that sort of breakfast. He knew what kind of foods different species ate in these sectors and none of them would suit Kathryn's palate. How and what did she eat? He sighed. There were a thousand and one things that had to be reintegrated into her memory, things she had to become used to again, precisely as if they were wholly strange to her.

He had work to do this morning before Isner arrived. His first task was to patch a communication to Darog Bohl's station commanders. So many things slipped between the security nets, thought Chakotay. The one he’d uncovered was the tip of the iceberg. Were they not aware of what was going on? He'd sworn that once he'd found Kathryn that they'd stop by worlds and search for other humans Chakotay had on a secure list, women who had gone missing in similar circumstances as Kathryn.

"I have reason to believe that the owner or captain of the vessel Vodar is engaging in the slave trade, trafficking victims he has possibly abducted," he said to Trabor Nissem, the commander. "Actually, he did abduct them. I am aware of at least two who have been taken from their homes or vessels. I have myself searched for one of my own species who has been missing for three years and know for certain that she is with the owner of the Vodar."

"He registered the Vodar two weeks ago under the name of Dorron. The best we can do is impound his ship, Mr Kotay, while he is at another location. We hear of these things but the culprits are clever in hiding their despicable activities. You have no more than ten hours to retrieve your people. That is all we will allow."

Chakotay gave a relieved sigh. "Thank you! It is important that I search his vessel. If it is under guard, I may have to defend myself. I know of another individual who is in a similar situation in trying to rescue one of his own species."

"The station has a reputation to uphold. Do what you need to do."

Then communication closed abruptly. Chakotay wondered absently if they didn't just look for others to do their dirty work. Had they done regular checks they would have found the seedy underbelly Isner was talking about. Had they been interested in taking out the rot, they'd have had a special task force to monitor the entertainment on Darog Bohl. Chakotay realised he'd shaken up something they didn't want discovered giving him permission so as to give the appearance of the station tackling burning social issues.

More importantly, he had permission to search the Vodar. There might be other victims on that ship. Kathryn might even be there, though he doubted that she was, given the fact that Ruigi might not have given Kathryn's handler his message. It was quite possible that she'd been made to work last night after his own visit to the Glitter Pit. Just the thought of what was happening there made the bile rise in his stomach again. He forced down the momentary sensation of nausea, breathing deeply until he could become calm again.

Another subspace message was recorded in which he told Admiral Paris to thank Tom, Torres, Seven and Harry for the work they'd done. He couldn't tell the admiral the condition or circumstances in which he'd discovered Kathryn. Once her memory was restored, Chakotay was certain she would appreciate her nearest and dearest not knowing the kind of life she had been forced to lead.

**Captain's personal log:**

**Date entry - 2384**

_I am on the verge of getting Kathryn out of her dire circumstances. That bastard Dorron keeps her in a drugged state. I refuse to believe that Kathryn has not made any attempt to escape from captivity during the past three years. She is dancing for clients, having sex with them._

_What hold does Dorron have over Kathryn? Why is he keeping her drugged? I believe firmly that is what he's doing, but, why? Can Kathryn be really simply addicted, or is it something else completely that he has control over that keeps her tied to the life she is leading?_

_What can it be, I wonder? Is there something more to Kathryn's captivity than meets the eye?_

_Something went horribly wrong from the moment Kathryn left with Daryl Wentworth on that shuttle. The attack on them was never random as we have been made to believe. Wentworth was a cold-blooded scoundrel to begin with, one who had a secret agenda known to Admiral Paris and myself. Only Kathryn Janeway can tell us what really happened those months they were supposed to be on honeymoon._

**End personal log.**

*******

Chakotay and Isner stood around a table on the New Liberty, studying an array of devices and weapons. He explained to the Kirlean how the scientific tricorder worked as well as the medical tricorder. Isner's homeworld possessed advanced technology and warp capabilities equal to that of most worlds in Federation space, therefore no first contact situation existed here.

"What is that?" Isner asked as he pointed to two objects lying next to the tricorders.

Chakotay gave a deep sigh. There were alcoves on the station where visitors could transport to other areas, but they were all well monitored and documented by the station commanders. A site to site transporter was technology new to these sectors. He had used the normal flitters flying around the station, or rail ports to get from location to location. But these two objects were vital to their mission.

"They are site to site transporters. This one," Chakotay relented as he picked up one, "already has the coordinates entered for this vessel. Use it in the Glitter Pit. By the way, I never asked how you got here. Do you have a vessel?"

"I worked freight on five vessels to get here. Very hard work. I have a room at a living quarters on the other side of the station. I - "

Chakotay gave Isner a keen look, his eyes narrowing. Then he squeezed his friend's arm.

"Don't worry. We'll work things out, you understand?"

"I am most grateful."

"No matter. Now look at the site to site transporter."

For the next few minutes, Chakotay gave Isner a little crash course in the use of the device, as well as the use of the phaser and compression phaser rifle.

"Where are we going?" Isner asked as he sat next to Chakotay in the transport taking them to the Vodar.

"We have permission to search Dorron's vessel. The handler who controls your wife may be there. We might even find Nera there, if not in the Glitter Pit."

Isner's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Chakotay. He shrank back from the pure fury that radiated from the Earth human. Despite the anger, he felt safe with Chakotay. He could do anything!

"You look like you would kill, warrior Chakotay," he said finally.

"If that is what it's going to take, I will."

"You love this woman?"

Chakotay glanced up sharply. The question had been direct, completely unexpected, yet, he realised, with an insight borne of Isner's own love for his Nera. He thought of Kathryn, how his love for her had grown from that first day they had spoken across their vessels' viewscreens. Images of her danced before him as he closed his eyes briefly, of Kathryn laughing, bright sunlight in her hair, standing in a little forest glade on New Earth. He thought of all the times they had been happy. And suddenly, the days and nights that once seemed to roll together in unending grief when she'd rejected his advances, playing cat and mouse with his feelings, always teasing, mostly openly reminding him of her mission, her task, her duty, her need to push aside all feeling for him, fell away. All he remembered, all he wanted to remember were the good days, the days of loving her unconditionally, the days when her smile gave him hope. 

"You love this woman?" Isner repeated his question.

Chakotay didn't answer. He simply nodded, trying desperately not to weep.

Then he thought of the scans he had done earlier, before Isner arrived at the New Liberty. After his communication with the station commanders, he'd done a scan of Dorron's ship.

"There are ten life signs on board the Vodar."

The computer's voice - the same used all over Starfleet and Starfleet command - had been thin and tinny, reminding him of his days on Voyager. He'd entered details of the human genome into his search parameters.

"Computer, compare human genome with any of the life signs on the Vodar."

And instantly there was a response.

"There is one human on board the Vodar."

He'd closed his eyes, relieved that it could be Kathryn, which would make his job easier. There was one human on Dorron's ship. He'd followed his gut instinct in tracking Dorron's vessel first, just in case the alien made a dash for it.

"Computer, show image of Dorron and identify his species."

"Dorron is an inhabitant of the planet Krepek in sector 5869."

And now he knew what Dorron looked like. They'd have to travel through that sector on their way to Federation space. They might have to fight their way through. Then again, Dorron might not be well liked by his own tribes.

Chakotay was rudely shaken from his reverie when Isner nudged him hard in the side.

"Are you sleeping, my friend? There, that is the Vodar."

"Thanks," Chakotay said, grinning sheepishly

At the docking ports, there were few people milling about, most of them busy with maintenance work on their ships. There were no people around the Vodar, but like the New Liberty, it was protected by a forcefield. Then he suddenly wondered why he could scan the Vodar earlier if a forcefield provided a barrier. Maybe someone on board the vessel had dropped the shields for work outside the ship.

Chakotay and Isner walked all the way from the last transport to where the Vodar was docked. Dorron's ship was about the size of the New Liberty.

Chakotay's heart hammered. Next to him Isner was breathing hard, a determined gleam in his eyes. They were armed with phasers, a compression phaser rifle slung over Chakotay's shoulder. At the top of his boot peeked his d'k tahg. He was ready for action, ready to kill if he needed to.

There were ten life signs on board, some of them could be armed. His last scan had indicated one human life sign. It could be Kathryn or it could be another unfortunate human abducted from the Alpha Quadrant.

"Remember, Isner, we are here to rescue any female in captivity. They all want to go home."

"Understood. I shall kill the first guard who fires on me - "

"That shall be my task. Ready?"

"Ready."

They aimed their phasers at the secondary hull of the Vodar, an area Chakotay had already determined to be the weakest spot in the forcefield. He'd set both phasers to emit an elongated beam, just enough to create a man-sized aperture.

"Be prepared to transport to the Vodar," Chakotay said softly, after setting the co-ordinates. A second later they were engulfed in a blue shimmer, rematerialising in the aft section of the vessel. If the exterior of the vessel looked rundown, the interior appeared worse. Peeling deck plates, an unkempt cargo bay with some canisters open and machinery that had seen much better days. What was Dorron doing with all his latinum?

Chakotay forced his attention to their urgent task. He nodded to Isner. Both had studied the schematics of the vessel and had a good idea of the directions they were heading. Chakotay made his way to the bridge, while Isner crept along corridors to find the captives who seemed spread over several cabins.

Chakotay found his way unerringly to the bridge of the ship. There was no one, as he suspected, otherwise they would have been spotted on their approach to the ship. It made him wonder about how well Dorron had his slaves and his ship protected, and what ruse he used to get by the station commanders carrying women. How many were guards? He hadn't seen one yet, but remained on high alert. He sat down at the conn, the layout of the panels presenting very few problems. His hands flew over the panels for several seconds, then he sat back, smiling grimly.

"There, forcefield disabled, weapons array disabled and encrypted. When we leave, I'll sabotage his engines. It will take Dorron days to fix the problems and get this ship flying again."

Then Chakotay did something else. Since there was no automatic computer reaction to voice commands, he keyed in a few more instructions. Then he got up and tapped his commbadge.

"Chakotay to Isner. What have you found?"

"One alien guarding a door. I've determined there are three persons inside."

"Take him out. Remember, only heavy stun. I'll be right there."

His heart racing, Chakotay ran from the bridge and entered a long corridor. He heard a crack followed by a scream. Isner had taken out the guard for sure and would be inside the room. Chakotay hurried in that direction, passing several doors before he saw an alien lying on the deck, out cold. Chakotay stepped over the prone figure and entered the room.

Isner stood in front of two women who appeared a lot like female Kazon, with more softened bifurcation and pointed ears. They were scared out of their wits and looked like Kathryn - used, merchandise for men. When Chakotay stepped forward, both of them shrank back, and would have thumped against the bulkhead but for their hands that braced them.

"Please, we will not harm you. We know what is happening here."

"They are from the Komiri Homeworld, Chakotay," Isner offered. "That sorry individual lying in the corridor seems to be the only guard on the ship."

One way to keep a lot of women subservient was to keep them drugged. That way Dorron wouldn't need more than one or two guards. It certainly worked in their favour.

Chakotay nodded, then moved to touch one woman's shoulder. "What is your name?"

"I am Zaaria and she," Zaaria pointed to her companion, "is Piah."

"We will see that you get home and be with your people."

"Thank you, thank you!" both women exclaimed.

" Where are the others kept?" Chakotay asked.

They pointed to the corridor, more or less in the direction Chakotay had just passed.

"My friend here will see to it that you get ready. Take what belongs to you - "

"We will not take anything, sir - "

"Please, call me Chakotay."

The women nodded. Chakotay could understand that they shrank back from anything that would remind them of their life on board the Vodar or in the Glitter Pit and taverns and clubs on Darog Bohl and other stations.

"Isner, join me as soon as they are ready. They can stay in this room. We can bring the rest here."

"No! Please, let us take you to the others. There is one - "

"What?"

"Chakotay, there is one on this ship, like you…" Zaaria said.

"I know. Come."

"You do not understand," Piah whispered. "He is but a child…"

Chakotay didn't seem to hear Piah's last words and simply kept moving. When the women reached a door furthest away from the room they were in, they turned to Chakotay.

"In here," said Zaaria, her voice filled with new hope. She seemed to be the more talkative one, ready to lead and take action. He didn't doubt that their rescue made them bold.

"This is Isner," he said. "Take my friend to the other rooms - "

When they dashed down the corridor to the other cabins followed by Isner, Chakotay pressed the panel. He'd disabled all the security codes from the main computer on the bridge. Now he could just press and enter.

The room was weakly illuminated and appeared quite large, larger than the quarters he'd prepared for Kathryn on his own ship. In the corner on a couch he could discern a woman with long, black straggly hair and ridges on her forehead. The sudden hope that flared was doused when he realised it was not Kathryn. The woman cradled a small child to her.

Chakotay frowned heavily as he stepped up to the woman, who wanted to scream when he came nearer. The child's face was hidden against her bosom.

"Please, do not kill me," she begged. She looked older than the other two, probably a nursemaid to the child.

"Do not be alarmed. I will not hurt you," Chakotay assured her. His eyes rested on the child held protectively in her arms.

Then the child seemed to wake up as if Chakotay's thoughts touched it, turning to face the stranger in the cabin.

A boy. He was human. The one human aboard the Vodar, his computer had assured him. He had the bluest eyes Chakotay had ever seen. Blue eyes, pitch black, straight hair cut neatly in even bangs across his forehead.

He looked about two years old. The child reached with a pudgy hand for the newcomer. Then he smiled.

Chakotay froze, swallowed painfully, trying to digest what was happening in the seconds he stared at the little boy.

Chakotay had pictures of himself as a young child, looking exactly like this little boy.

"This cannot be…" he whispered, expelling a sudden whoosh of air. "This cannot be…"

"What is it, sir?" the old woman asked as she tried to hold on to the wriggling boy who held his hands to Chakotay.

"Who is this child's mother?" he asked, a needless question, his chest constricting painfully as if afraid to hear, but already knowing the answer.

"She whom we call Majja."

Kathryn…

He closed his eyes, experiencing blinding flashes, images of their last night together on Voyager, of Kathryn loving him, caressing, kissing him, of him loving and caressing, unable to make promises. Daryl Wentworth was blond, almost silver haired, in direct contrast to his own raven black hair. The child  looked nothing like Wentworth. Could their night of passion have resulted in this little boy? The little boy  had dimples, his skin tanned, like most of Chakotay's tribe on Dorvan. Another cry escaped through compressed lips as his head threatened to explode with a terrible truth, a terrible reality.

Chakotay breathed in deeply and sat down on the seat opposite them, reaching for the child who clambered fearlessly onto his lap and touched his face.

"What is this child's name?" he asked. And before the old woman could reply, the child spoke.

"My name is Andrew."

That was the first surprise. Kathryn had once told him her father's middle name was Andrew. The second surprise was even more shocking.

The old woman spoke up.

"He speaks the language of his mother. The language you speak, sir."

He could only nod, his shock still too overwhelming.

"Now, Andrew - "

"His mother calls him 'Drew', the old woman said, her eyes filling with tears. "She does not see him often, you must understand, sir."

He understood only too well. Chakotay turned the child to face him, then stroked his cheek in a fatherly gesture. His heart constricted again, because Drew looked at him with Kathryn Janeway's and smiled with dimples like his own. Cradling the child to him, he caressed the silken hair.

"Don't worry, okay? I am going to fetch your mommy and then I will take you home."

The child nodded. "Go home…"

"Yes."

Chakotay handed the child to the woman again.

"My colleague and I will see that you are all returned to your own homeworlds. Right now, we need you all in one place, on my own vessel."

The old woman began crying again. "I have been away from my people for a long time…"

Chakotay gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then leaned forward to kiss Andrew. He still could not believe it, but just thinking about the circumstances of his birth, the period thereafter. He needed to be back on the New Liberty to test for certain that little Andrew was his son. Then also, where did Dorron fit into the puzzle that was Kathryn's life in the Gamma Quadrant?

But those thoughts had to be temporarily shelved in the face of their immediate needs, getting everyone off the Vodar.

"Come with me," he ordered the women. He moved to the door of the cabin. Then he heard something and his hackles rose instantly.

"Wait!" he whispered urgently.  "Stand back!"

When he opened the door, the guard stood there, a phaser pointed at Chakotay. Just as he was about to fire, Chakotay pushed him further into the corridor. The alien turned swiftly and fired. As Chakotay returned fire, the guard slammed against the bulkhead of the corridor, slumping to the floor, a hole burned through his chest.

"I don't have time for this," Chakotay muttered. There was no way he would have left the guard to inform Dorron of what was happening on his ship. The alien didn't look astute enough to decode the computer systems of the Vodar, but he was taking no chances. Dorron would have been back on his ship in seconds.

Just at that moment, Isner returned with the rest of the women. He looked at the dead guard and then at Chakotay

"You killed him?"

"Whatever it takes. Move the body into one of the cabins. We're leaving for the New Liberty."

Isner looked at the woman and child who had followed Chakotay out of the room. His eyes narrowed.

"This child is of your species, Chakotay, and he looks like you!"

"Get ready to transport to my ship!" Chakotay ordered, ignoring Isner's statement.

**********

END CHAPTER 4

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual disclaimers - Paramount owns Janeway and Chakotay.
> 
> Mary Stark - ongoing betareading of this project.

Chakotay and Isner rode the transport from the Liberty to the Glitter Pit thirty minutes before he was due in Kiosk 7. Isner was quiet; the magnitude of what they'd planned was so great Chakotay could practically hear the wild beating of his friend's heart. From time to time he glanced at Isner, reassured that the Kirlean was at least outwardly in control of his emotions. Chakotay's hands rested on his thighs where he kept up a steady thrumming, mostly to calm his own nerves and settle them into mentally organising his strategy for the rescue, playing the events over and over in his mind. 

They were well armed, their phasers, transporters and tricorders in a sling bag each carried. He'd already planned on bypassing the security of the entrance door of the Glitter Pit. Isner would be surprised because he'd told Chakotay that while only three raps would get them through, sensors picked up weapons and other devices, "like transporters and things". He'd told Isner not to worry. His communication with the station commanders earlier, before Isner arrived, had proved rewarding.

His sighed deeply. From the moment he'd found Andrew on Dorron's vessel, he'd suspected that he was possibly the little boy's father. He'd gone over all the reasons why Kathryn would have kept Andrew's paternity a secret. And why not? He'd still been with Seven at the time. 

After they were all transported to his ship, he'd designated them cabins. Although the New Liberty was small, there was space for them all, although he didn't place anyone in the suite he always kept prepared for Kathryn. Chakotay had taken Andrew from old Wadra, surprised at how trustingly the child clung to him. Then he'd walked to the small sickbay containing a single biobed. 

One of the things the admirals had insisted upon was to download the EMH to Chakotay's computers once he'd had the New Liberty up and running. By that time he'd already been traveling a year and had been injured several times. The primary task of the hologram was to anticipate an injured Kathryn or whatever medical emergency might arise during his search for her. Under the guise that the EMH had been transferred to Jupiter Station to work with his creator Doctor Zimmerman, the holographic interface was downloaded to the New Liberty. The time had come to engage the EMH once again. 

"Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram - "

He'd smiled when the EMH appeared.

"Please state the nature of the emergency. Ah, Captain!"

"Good to see you too, Doctor."

"You last activated me six months ago when you were injured in a scuffle with some very bad men in a very bad tavern. And who is this?" the EMH asked as he touched Andrew's shoulder. 

"His name is Andrew. I need you to verify he is the son of Kathryn Janeway."

"Admiral Janeway? You have found her?"

"Please, just do it."

And while the Doctor had also examined the wriggling Andrew completely and declared him healthy for a boy of two years and three months, he'd looked up eventually at Chakotay. 

"Andrew is indeed the son of Kathryn Janeway. "

Before Chakotay could pose the next question with his heart racing with anticipation, the EMH gave him a searching look. He had seen that look so often on Voyager when the doctor was about to shock them with something sensational, or ask uncomfortable questions. 

"What?"

"Andrew's DNA is a hundred percent match for yours, Captain. He is your son."

He'd stood there, head bent, hands on hips. There it was. Official confirmation that nine months after he and Kathryn had made love, she bore him a son. It was not the time to accuse, to vent and scream outrage. Things happened and if he needed a source for the events that subsequently played out and led to that moment in his small sick bay, it was that day when he'd broken Kathryn Janeway's heart. The EMH had nodded sagely, then patted Andrew's head. 

"Does he know?"

"He doesn't. But he will know. I have found Admiral Janeway, but she is in captivity and possibly heavily drugged. We're leaving shortly to get her out of the hell hole she's in. Be prepared, Doc. She won't know you."

"Computer, deactivate Emergency Medical Hologram."

************

"You are quiet, my friend," Isner's voice broke through his troubled thoughts. 

"I have a son, Isner."

"You told me that already, three times. You did not know about young Andrew until a few hours ago. The woman Kathryn who is called Majja, is the mother. You told me that…"

Chakotay nodded. He had to voice it aloud, to tell someone - a friend - and tell himself many times over that Andrew was his son. It made it a reality, an undisputable fact. More than ever now he had to unite Kathryn not only with her parents but with her little boy. 

He'd begun to ponder on how Kathryn-Majja missed her child and had understood immediately the hold Dorron had over Kathryn, how he could enforce her compliance. He simply kept her away from her little boy, a child who just barely spoke English. He'd left Andrew in the care of Wadra. The child seemed attached to the woman. Why wouldn’t he, when his mother was kept away from him?

Then other thoughts hit him. Under what conditions was Andrew born? Was Kathryn already in the service of Dorron? Daryl Wentworth had deliberately traveled to those sectors where he met up with the scum and the scourge of the quadrant with the intention of selling Kathryn to the highest bidder. A deal that went sour. Did he know about the baby? He had to!

All these questions which only Kathryn could answer. 

"Chakotay…"

"Yes, I know. Ready?"

"As I will ever be."

**** 

He'd had the EMH implant a tiny transponder in the palm of his right hand, activated from the moment he and Isner had left the New Liberty. Once Isner rapped the door of the Glitter Pit three times like he'd done the previous night, the transponder would mask the presence of their transporters, tricorders and phasers. Especially their phasers. They'd be able to proceed directly to their respective kiosks without anyone knowing they carried weapons. 

The journey via the station's transport system to the Glitter Pit took twenty minutes. Now they disembarked, following the same route to the club as the previous night. Only this time the area felt no longer strange, a kind of familiarity surrounding them as they walked briskly across the walkways, then down one level and along another fifty or so metres. This time Chakotay absorbed much about the place, noticing the large compound when they'd walked the upper level. They were actually the apartments behind the kiosks of the club, with entrances leading directly into a kiosk.

Beside him, Isner was breathing hard. Realising he was holding his breath, Chakotay blew out air softly through clenched teeth. 

"We're here," Isner spoke softly. Chakotay could hear the excitement in his friend's voice. 

The door of the club had inlaid patterns on it, like the etchings of a twentieth century artist which Chakotay hadn't noticed the previous night. As they agreed, Chakotay would rap three times on the door. His transponder would scramble the sensors of the entrance and only show he had latinum and instruments used for navigation. He had given Isner five bars, but they didn't have much time to do more than watch the women dance. 

"No time for making love to my wife, just keep talking to her until your signal."

The door slid open and they entered quickly. The club was full, mostly men sitting with drinks, with live entertainment on the stage. Men seated at tables whistled loudly while others were oblivious of the dancing and singing, nursing their drinks and appearing morose and drunk. Chakotay strode purposefully to Ruigi's small office. Isner bumped into him when he stopped abruptly just inside the door. Ruigi stood up, his smile greasy which immediately invoked Chakotay's ire. 

"Greetings, Amarr Kotay! You will receive much pleasure tonight. Majja is wet for you already! And you, Isner Kapp, you are in Kiosk 8 tonight. Now, gentlemen, your money."

Before Chakotay dug his hand into his bag, he grabbed Ruigi by the throat and pulled him closer so that their noses almost touched. 

"Let me guess, you conveniently forgot to tell Majja's owner that no man was to service her last night. Well, did you?" he hissed. 

"You must understand, Amarr Kotay, this is my establishment. I do bus - "

Chakotay shook him so hard that Ruigi's head lolled back and forth on his neck.

"I warned you! Told you no one must touch her!"

"Forgive me, Amarr. That Dorron is not a nice man. She is his property. I'll give you a discount."

After which Chakotay shook him again. "Wait!" Ruigi began to stammer. "The lights of the kiosks are on. They are ready. Isner gets the same lady - "

Then Isner dived from behind Chakotay, making a grab for the tall alien and threatening to beat the snot out of him.

"That lady is my wife! Tell me I should not kill you right here!" Isner removed five bars of latinum from his bag while Chakotay took his promised ten bars out. 

"Listen carefully, you dog! You shut up, is that clear? You haven’t seen anything, you’ve heard nothing. Do you understand?" When Ruigi didn't react quickly enough, Chakotay hissed again. "Do you understand?"

Ruigi nodded vigorously. Chakotay thought his head would drop off. 

Then both men moved away. The club was crowded, the patrons' attention on the stage show of dancing men and women. At Kiosk 7, Chakotay paused and glanced at Isner who stood in front of Kiosk 8. A second later both doors slid open.

Chakotay entered, blinking in the bright light inside the cabin. He glanced about, saw nothing extra or different from the previous night. The luxurious arm chair with its gleaming leather was the same. Just behind the chair, Chakotay found what he was looking for - a little nook where he placed his sling bag. If the women had sex with their clients, then the chair could recline to various angles. Only Kathryn would know how far back it could lean. Then he walked round the chair and sat down. He began thrumming his fingers on the armrest, forcing himself to remain composed.

Tonight he was Amarr Kotay. Kathryn would walk through the back entrance. She would dance for him, do what she'd done last night. His heart skipped a beat. He felt breathless but ready for action. He let his hand drop over the side of the arm chair, feeling his bag nestled just at the edge of his fingertips. 

A light flashed just above the back entrance. When it opened, Kathryn stepped through in a movement so fluid, so elegant that Chakotay sucked in his breath.

She was painted white this time. Long elegant geometric designs down her whole body, her face again stark with a contrasting black design crossing her lips and down her chin. Her eyes were glazed, perhaps more than the previous night. 

In that moment, Chakotay felt his eyes well with tears as Kathryn-Majja began to gyrate, her hips swaying while her arms unfurled like a swan's wings above her head. It was erotic, every movement peeling his resolve from him. There was a pounding in his chest as he observed her, wanting her to stop. But it seemed clear that no recognition from the previous night lit up her eyes, that sudden glow that would indicate that she knew him. His heart sank. It was going to be harder than he’d thought. Her eyes never broke contact with his as she danced, a merging of ballet and erotica that made the bile rise in the pit of his stomach. Her elegant dying swan corrupted by the shameless twisting and twirling of her body.

His eyes stole to her hips, traveled to her navel, down, down toward her centre. A buzz started in his ears; he battled to maintain control of his libido, for God help him, he could see the wetness between her legs. 

_Come closer, Kathryn. Step off the dais…_

As though she could hear his voiceless command, Kathryn stepped off the platform, taking two steps to reach him. He could smell her, smell the heat of pheromones, her sex, her breathing just centimetres from his face while straddling him, bracing her hands on the armrests. Then the back rest flipped down in a sudden movement that surprised him. He lay on his back, Kathryn-Majja hovering over him. His loins began to burn and itch like mad. Chakotay breathed hard, sharp intakes that seared his chest as Kathryn-Majja leaned into him and he wondered suddenly whether Isner's nose smoked up his kiosk. 

Slowly Kathryn-Majja opened his shirt front to the waist of his pants, her hands caressing his chest, fingers feather-light skimming his nipples. When she gripped his belt, he covered her hand.

"Shhh…"

"I must," she whispered as her hips pressed into his crotch. 

He was aroused, had tried to control it. He forced his brain to relay two impulses. The first to move in concert with Kathryn as she gyrated against him, her own breathing flying from her lips in short gasps. She was wet, had been dripping while dancing. Had they been in a bed, he would have been inside her in seconds. But this, this was a concert of movement mimicking sex and he let her, for he knew somewhere Dorron was watching them and his other slaves.

The second impulse was to work his right hand over the armrest to settle against his bag. It took a few seconds to retrieve his hypospray, bringing his hand up slowly, while her lips brushed his. A thousand stars exploded in his head at the searing touch, a memory of a lifetime ago when they'd kissed. He wanted the kiss the last, to burn a new memory into his heart and soul. 

He returned the caress, her mouth opening under his as he emitted a moan that sprang from deep inside him. His free hand grasped her head, brought it even closer against him. Her whimpers excited him, but he was lucid, had to remain in control when he pressed the hypo spray gently against her neck. It was to counter the first wave of the pheromones in her, to reduce even if minimally, the memory inhibitor so that the glazed look would recede a little.

She paused, lifted her mouth from his and gazed into his eyes. 

Chakotay knew the instant recognition hit her.

"Amarr Kotay?"

"Yes, but my name is Chakotay, Kathryn. Just keep doing what you're doing, okay?"

Her momentary confusion vanished as she nodded, then continued grinding her hips against him while he slid the hypospray in the bag. 

"Help me," she breathed against his lips. 

"I am taking you home, Kathryn - "

"I have dreamed of a place, often."

"Who is behind the back entrance?" he whispered between kissing her and pulling his shirt completely out from his pants and pulling up against her head.

"Only Dorron and Linnea - "

"Does he control the forcefield?"

Kathryn nodded, then lunged herself against him. Into his ear she whispered, "I can't leave Drew…"

"Drew? Who is Drew?"

He knew about Drew but wanted to draw her out, even as he knew that he had very little time left.

"My son. He is on Dorron's ship."

"I want you to help me, Kathryn-Majja. See my palm? I want you to hold my hand and press your thumb against it, okay? Will you trust me?"

Kathryn-Majja nodded, then said quite forcefully, "I trust you, Chakotay-Amarr Kotay."

"Good."

Chakotay pulled Kathryn up, his sling bag already over his shoulder. He nudged her toward the dais, his arms circling her waist. As she stepped on the platform, he whispered "Now". It was the sign that she press hard into his right palm. The transponder activated to another, a new frequency. At that moment the forcefield went up, but Chakotay and Kathryn stepped right through it. 

He held her close to him, then whispered. "My phaser, take it out - "

The next moment the phaser was in her hand. Chakotay smiled. Somewhere in Kathryn's subconscious mind, her hand felt unerringly for his weapon. He'd seen some of Tom Paris' old movies in which the hero, while holding the lady in distress close to his body, used his gun to fire at the unknown assailant right behind her. While he held Kathryn, he fired at the back entrance in a sustained burst until the door slid open. 

Just at that moment, a man Chakotay recognised as Dorron appeared, ready to fire at Chakotay. He returned fire, stunning Dorron at the same time pushing Kathryn away from him. Dorron lay semi-conscious in what he could surmise was the portal between apartments and the kiosks. Chakotay picked up Dorron's weapon. 

"Go, Kathryn. If there are other women, get them together." Chakotay gazed with narrowed eyes at her. She was magnificently naked. The body paint did nothing to hide what was clearly on offer for men to use. "Cover yourself. We're leaving here in the next half hour."

"Amarr Kotay-Chakotay, did you kill Dorron?" she asked, fear in her eyes. 

He leaned towards her, gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"No, I just stunned him but I will kill him if I have to."

He followed Kathryn as she hurriedly made her way through the portal until she stood in a large bedroom. Chakotay chucked Dorron's weapon under the bed and clipped his own phaser to his belt. Then he surveyed the room. The bedding was still rumpled and Chakotay stifled a groan as he realised that Dorron had been busy with Kathryn, most likely throughout the night.

"Kathryn-Majja, did Dorron mate with you?" he asked, a flash of pain crossing his features. 

Majja couldn't quite understand why Chakotay looked so sad. She was Dorron's slave-woman when she didn't pleasure other men. Why did Chakotay-Amarr Kotay appear so pained? An unaccustomed moistness filled her eyes as his sadness touched her too when she replied.

"After Andrew was born, I was always mated with him," she replied.

Chakotay took a deep breath. He felt anger bourgeoning inside him and he welcomed the feeling. He needed to feed off his fury. 

"You know what he did to you was wrong, Majja, don't you?"

"I had no other life," she said, "after Andrew was born. There was only Dorron."

"Who else is here?" Chakotay asked as he looked around, saw another door that led to other rooms.

"Linnea. She is with the woman who said her client called her Nera," Kathryn-Majja replied as she prepared to dress in what passed as underwear and a long shift.

"Isner's wife. He is next door, freeing her."

Suddenly Chakotay heard a cry from the portal side, saw in a flash Dorron charging at him with a dagger. 

"Out of the way, Kathryn!" he shouted. Kathryn jumped away quickly. 

Dorron lunged but Chakotay had already unsheathed his d'k tahg. In a swift move, he grabbed the ineffectual Dorron, whose dagger slipped from his hand at the force with which Chakotay grabbed him. The d'k tahg flashed in the low illumination, struck across Dorron's neck. Dorron was dead by the time he hit the floor. Chakotay looked down at the dead Krepekean who'd held women hostage and he felt like kicking the dead man. But Kathryn dashed forward, very distressed.

"You killed him! He has my son!" Kathryn cried.

"Andrew is safe on my ship, Kathryn. We rescued him before we came here." 

Her relief was palpable. He wondered whether she remembered who the father of her child was. She must have made a connection that Andrew was human, like her, that it would be natural to assume that his father must also be human. 

Then Chakotay hit his commbadge. "Chakotay to Isner."

"Isner here. Nera is just dressing. There is an old woman with her. She must come with us."

"Be here in ten minutes."

After he signed off, Chakotay followed Kathryn to a small alcove. She sat down at a vidcom and brought up some files. Then she looked at him.

"I used to write little stories for Drew. I had to create the graphemes for the English alphabet because none exists in these sectors. I don't want the vidcom. What - ?" she said when he remained quiet.

Chakotay dug into his sling bag and retrieved a scientific tricorder. Kathryn stared at it as if transfixed, then took it from him. Chakotay couldn't help but smile at the way she handled the device so expertly. Within seconds she downloaded all her files. Then she gazed at Chakotay and frowned heavily.

"This device is known to me. I sensed how it works. Is it from my previous life?"

"It most definitely is, Kathryn."

"You keep calling me Kathryn. Is that my real name?"

"You are Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway. But more about that later. We need to get you out of here."

Isner burst through the connecting door with two women in tow. "I used the phaser to open the interleading door. This is Nera, my wife!" Isner gushed, then pulled her forward. When he gazed into her eyes, smoke poured from the monotril. Nera was in the burgundy paint that had made Kathryn so stunning the previous night. An older woman was with them and Kathryn reached immediately for her, hugging her tightly.

"Linnea! You will come with us. This is Chakotay. I told you about him. He has come to rescue us! And, he says my real name is Kathryn."

Linnea hugged Kathryn again. 

"We are going to transport from here to my ship," said Chakotay, his throat suddenly thick with emotion. "Isner, you will transport the three of you. Ready?"

Isner pulled Nera to him, and gestured to Linnea to stand close to the two of them. Then he entered the coordinates. Within seconds they dematerialised. 

"That is a site to site transporter," Kathryn said and Chakotay wanted to weep, for it was clear that Kathryn didn't know who she had been before. She knew her life only as Majja, with only the technology of the sectors they traveled familiar to her. But her subconscious mind was beginning to recognise Federation technology. It was a good start, he thought as he began looking around the rooms, with Kathryn following him.

"What are you looking for, Amarr Kotay-Chakotay?" she asked.

"Ah, found it," he said before he answered her question. In his hand he held Dorron's instruments of torture, the injectors and phials of drugs. He'd need to let the EMH study the chemicals used to enslave the women. So far, it appeared only Dorron used the enslavement methods. Chakotay had already reported the devious activities in the Glitter Pit and other clubs on the station to the station authorities . He needed to get his own people out first.

"Come with me," he ordered after he stashed the instruments and phials in his bag and grabbed Kathryn's hand.

"Where are we going?"

He pulled her through the portal into the kiosk and opened the door. Kathryn found herself in the main entertainment area of the Glitter Pit. Her eyes widened, for she had never been allowed in the club or restaurant. She gasped, then simply followed Chakotay. They moved in the direction of what she thought was an office with a very tall, thin alien sitting there.

"Ruigi!"

"Amarr Kotay! You have Majja! What are you doing? There will be trouble!"

"Dorron is dead. Get rid of his body. The man was scum and you know it. You knew what was happening." Chakotay barked as he grabbed Ruigi's neck, "I want my latinum, now!"

"But - but - "

"Station Security is on its way here to arrest you and free the other women. Now, shall I kill you and then get my money?"

Ruigi coughed and sputtered and when Chakotay released him, he fell over the tall stool. Ruigi recovered quickly and opened a drawer, counting fifteen bars of latinum, then handing it very reluctantly to Chakotay.

"This woman belongs to my tribe. I'm taking her home, understood?"

"Yes, yes, Amarr Kotay. And you say the station law enforcement is on its way? Here?"

Chakotay dug into his bag, felt around for the device he wanted. Out came the hypospray; he adjusted the settings and held it to Ruigi.

"What is that?" Ruigi asked.

"This is so you can lie to the station law enforcement officers."

"Then they won't imprison me?"

Chakotay pulled Ruigi closer and jabbed the hypospray into his neck. Ruigi sighed before sagging to the floor.

Then Chakotay ushered Kathryn outside the Glitter Pit. In a small alcove in the corridor, he removed his site to site transporter and entered the coordinates. 

Seconds later, they rematerialised on the bridge of the New Liberty.

END CHAPTER 5

**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story so far: Chakotay has rescued Kathryn from the evil clutches of Dorron and killed him. Now the story continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologise to all my readers for the long delay in posting a new chapter. It has been hectic over the holiday period and only now I'm recovering and can spend more time working on this novel. Thank you for you patience!

* * *

Kathryn's relief at being on the bridge of Chakotay's vessel, free from her bondage, was overshadowed by her immediate concern for her son. Chakotay held her briefly before he released her. Could he see the worry in her eyes despite the fact that Dorron no longer held so much power over her? Despite the assurance Chakotay had given that her son was safe? It was as though he sensed it, for he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. The fury she had witnessed only briefly when he killed Dorron and threatened to murder that alien Ruigi had made way for composure, and, she sensed, peace, a feeling that invited complete trust.

"Come, Kathryn," he urged as he led her off the bridge and entered a corridor.

Feeling comforted by his strength, Kathryn kept glancing around, frowning as she passed cabins.

"This is your vessel?"

"A collection of parts, as B'Elanna would have said."

"Should I know this B'Elanna?"

"Definitely."

They stopped at a cabin door. Kathryn's heart raced furiously. She hadn't seen her son in seven days. Wadra always cared for him and every time Kathryn-Majja was allowed to be with Andrew, he seemed to have grown a centimetre. He was a little more than two years old, the only light in her dark tunnel of despair. Blinking back a sudden tear, she realised she had no idea of her son's exact birth date.

The door slid open after Chakotay pressed a panel. Kathryn hesitated until Chakotay gestured that she enter. She rushed through, scanning the room immediately.

"Drew? Andrew!"

The little boy broke away from old Wadra and ran towards them on short legs.

"Mama!" he cried as she scooped him up and held him close. He felt soft and warm and healthy.

"My baby!" she cried, her voice trembling. "My precious baby!"

Then she wept, her slender shoulders shuddering. She felt a strong hand squeezing her shoulder.

"Kathryn…"

"Thank you… Thank you!"

He couldn't bear her gratitude, couldn't bear it that she saw him only as someone who had rescued her. It threatened to undo him, the wet shine that filled her eyes. He knew she didn't know who he really was, that they had such a long history and that hurt like hell. It hurt as much as the thought that when the time came that she recognised him fully, the pain would have increased a thousand-fold. So he simply shrugged.

When Kathryn-Majja glanced around her, she saw all the other women in the room, as well as another man who clung to her friend Nera. After pressing Andrew to her again, she put him down and watched as he toddled towards Wadra, who smiled as she lifted him on her lap.

"This is Isner, the husband of Nera," Chakotay said. "All the women here will be taken to their respective homeworlds. They will travel on Dorron's vessel as soon as I make arrangements with Darog Bohl's station commanders. They have impounded the vessel and will release it to Isner."

She was still too dazed at the realisation that she was free, that Dorron was dead and that she felt no guilt at all over his demise. Those moments had shocked her when Chakotay pulled out his dagger, grabbed Dorron by the neck and slashed his throat, all in one fluid movement so fast the she couldn't distinguish between the timing of each move. Dorron had simply sunk to the floor, keeled over, blood spurting from the open wound, his eyes starkly glazed.

Now Chakotay introduced her to the strange man who was Nera's kin, of the same species. Kathryn nodded, then moved to greet the other women. She knew them all, and her eyes filled with tears as she greeted and hugged them, the joy of being free surging through her.

Isner and Nera left the cabin while Chakotay watched them indulgently. On an impulse, he walked to Wadra and his heart wanted to burst when Andrew naturally leaned to him as he sat down next to the old woman. For a few seconds in which he felt he wanted to shed a few tears, he held Andrew facing him. The shock of black hair, the blue eyes, the dimples, speared Chakotay's insides.

"Hey, we meet again. My name is Chakotay."

And it pleased him when Andrew said his name quite confidently, "Chakotay."  Then the boy became quite interested in Chakotay's commbadge. When he touched it, the beep startled the child. Andrew's face creased as he turned to face his mother.

"Don't worry, little man. This is a commbadge. You'll have your own soon, just like your Mommy."

Comforted by Chakotay's voice, Andrew leaned against him. Did the child sense they were related? Chakotay thought. It was too soon to tell the child anything, too soon even to tell Kathryn that he was Andrew's father. All that had to wait until Kathryn's memory had  been fully integrated. He'd have to speak to the EMH about slowing the process so that the shock of regaining her memory was not too traumatic or sudden. Sighing, he placed Andrew on Wadra's lap. 

Kathryn-Majja and Nera still wore their body paint, their hair gelled.

"You can use the replicator for your immediate needs. Just off that alcove is a bathroom. How long will it take to remove the paint?" Chakotay asked.

"Not long. The - the replicator… I can replicate other clothing?"

"Yes. I have to be on the bridge. I'll be back in an hour or so."

He left the women and made his way to the bridge again. He didn't have much sympathy for the dead Dorron and the comatose Ruigi who'd be too scared to report trafficking to the authorities because he received a commission from the sex traders. He had a good club which could be great if he kept it clean. When Chakotay reached the bridge, he sat down, turning to face the computer array to his right. There were two chairs. Kathryn would eventually pilot the vessel once her memory had been restored.

Then he patched a communication to the station commanders. Dorron had been killed in a skirmish, he told them. There were other women still in captivity in the Glitter Pit. Its owner, one Ruigi, promised that he would clean up the establishment. He needed to be kept on the straight and narrow. No, Chakotay replied, there were many other women in captivity on other space stations. He’d had limited success to date in dismantling the practice. It was imperative that they search other clubs on the station, he told them. They assured him that they would continue to run a tight ship. Chakotay had smiled at their expressions but refrained from making any judgments against them. They were taking action and that was good enough for him.

Chakotay sat back after closing communication. He'd ensure that Isner could take Dorron's ship, see that the dead alien was taken off the vessel and get his own people home. All of them desired to be with their families. The women had been abducted, like Kathryn three years ago, and taken from their loved ones, their memories wiped and then used to entertain men in seedy nightclubs. Some had grown old and used to serve other tasks.

_Such as taking care of kids who were born in captivity…_

Half an hour later, he received confirmation that the Vodar was now registered to Isner and his partner Nera. They would guarantee the safety of the women until they were reunited with their families.

Then Chakotay prepared a subspace message to Starfleet Command on an obscure but secure channel for Admiral Paris.

But how to start? What to say besides the fact that Kathryn was safe? Sighing, he began his message.

_"I am pleased to inform you that Kathryn Janeway has been rescued. She is safe with me on my ship. We begin our journey to the Alpha Quadrant within the next day or so._

How much should I divulge? he wondered. The truth was appalling. Kathryn Janeway has a child…

_During her years in captivity, she has been systematically  drugged to suppress her memories. I believe that in the initial shuttle accident there could have been some memory loss. Whoever captured her simply capitalised on her amnesia and drugged her further. She knows me as Chakotay, but makes no connection to our past on Voyager or those months she was still with us in the Alpha Quadrant. She has no idea that she captained Voyager or had been promoted to admiral when we returned to the Alpha Quadrant._

He thought of the previous night, how shocked he'd been seeing her, and the total desolation he'd felt when she didn't recognise him. Everything they had experienced in the Delta Quadrant, their adventures, their good days and bad days, their fights, their companionship, the way Kathryn had so often simply leaned against him, craving the solace his presence offered… All of it gone from her memory. He recalled the day their shuttle crashed and how he'd despaired of losing her. He'd cried his anguish to the heavens. Then later, after recovering, they'd rowed on Lake George, both deep in thought but shrouded in a silence that had been blessed, her trauma lessening by the minute. He remembered how she told him then that she'd seen his anguish at losing her, how he wept.

In all their time on Voyager, Kathryn had been in every frame, in every second in which he revelled in her closeness to him. He even recalled those days she'd turned him down, rejected his advances, however tentative they were. Always just Kathryn, until, God help him, he could no longer pretend that something magnificent could be born out of their close association. Even then Kathryn had been with him.

Would she remember those days, those events, those feelings? Sighing, he continued his message…

_The EMH has been primed to administer dosages in relatively small increments to reduce the shock of what she has had to endure. I can tell you it is not easy to relate to you her life of the past three years. I know you will understand to what I am alluding. She had been enslaved, owned by a handler who used her as merchandise._

How could he tell Paris that he found her dancing for him with the express intention of seducing him? How could he explain to them his outrage, his anger? And was his anger enough to suppress the outrage he'd experienced? Chakotay blinked hard as the image of a gyrating Kathryn flashed before him with a knowing smirk that within seconds she'd be impaled on him.

"Goddammit!" he muttered under his breath before he continued.

_That part of her life is over. She is much relieved that she has been freed, for her urgent request to me was to deliver her from the life she was forced to lead._

_We will be returning with an extra guest who is just over two years old. This might come as a shock to you. By my calculations, Kathryn Janeway was pregnant when she left Federation space with Daryl Wentworth. I can tell you with absolute certainty that Wentworth  did not father Kathryn's son._

_The night before Voyager docked at Earth's Orbital Station, Kathryn and I were together although I had already committed myself to Seven of Nine. Our EMH has determined that young Andrew Janeway is my son. He has Kathryn's eyes and my dimples! Kathryn does not know the truth because of the almost complete memory erasure she has undergone. Her captor has kept her drugged all this time. At the time of her rescue, Kathryn had been given a double or triple dose of the poison._

_Reintegration will be traumatic, I can tell you that. The most important thing right now is that she is safe and we are on our way home. Just a few loose ends to tie up. I know that this information will remain classified as I am certain that Kathryn would appreciate it._

_My regards to Kathryn's parents._

_Captain Chakotay._

***

Standing under a water shower, Kathryn mouthed Chakotay's name over and over, acquainting herself with the sound, a beautiful soft sound. Did she always say his name like that in a past she didn't know? It felt to her as if she had said it a thousand times. He was Amarr Kotay, but he was more Chakotay. It bathed him in familiarity, or clothed him in his identity. He appeared to her tribal, like the Native Americans of Earth.

_Where did that thought come from? Was she from Earth?_

Chakotay. Chá-ko-tay… The name grew on her, teased her consciousness, a weak attempt to flick a light in her brain where she could see everything that connected her to him. He said she knew him. How were they connected? How?

Streaks of body paint trickled down as the warm water cleansed her. She was happy, grateful to wash it off her. She would never have to paint her body again, never again perform for a client, always remember that she was drugged to dance and give her body to a stranger. Kathryn… But was she not Majja?   Kathryn sounded so right to her, but also so strange. She had not heard that name before. Did Dorron know her real name but never told her? She had been Majja for so long, she would not know to react to another name, one Chakotay said was her real name.

Several moments she stood still, just letting the water run down her body like a waterfall. Then suddenly a blinding flash. She saw herself standing on the bridge of a starship, and the man Chakotay standing directly in front of her. Why did fury bounce off his body? Why did she feel such anger?

Why did it come to her so suddenly? She was dressed in red, a uniform that felt like it was a part of her. She tried to hold on to that image, to access a deeper meaning to it. She turned to look at a bulkhead; there was a plaque and a sequence of numbers - 74656. She saw the numbers so clearly! Then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

"No…" she pleaded silently as the image shimmered away into the dark corners of her consciousness.

But the water spraying over her cleansed her, washing away her history, one she would never want to repeat. It was over, her terrible existence which had seemed never-ending, her days and nights filled with despair that she'd grow old servicing men. It was over, her heart sang the new song, music that filled her being  - Kathryn didn't know, and certainly didn't care, whether the stream down her face was water or her tears. They merged and continued to exorcise the trauma of her enslavement.

A smile tugged at her when she thought how Chakotay had held her to him after they exited the Glitter Pit. Like he would never let her go, like he would want to keep her by his side forever.

_And the warrior promised to be by her side forever._

_He said my name is Kathryn Janeway…_

Then she repeated the name "Kathryn" over and over, trying to infuse it into her being. On Dorron's ship, she was always called Majja. Everyone called her by that name. She had not known there was another name, although she sometimes sensed there was a past. Was Andrew's history a part of it? Her son looked like her, a human one hundred percent. Why could she not remember who was her son's father? Dorron always told her Andrew was spawned by an alien biped who resembled her species. Yet it felt to her that it couldn't be so. Everything about her son identified as human, yet her curiosity about her little boy and her indefatigable attempts to understand the origins of his birth always led to her head aching for days. Then Dorron simply administered another injection to "make her forget".

Kathryn.

If Chakotay called her that, it had to be her name. Kathryn Janeway.

"I am Kathryn Janeway," she murmured softly. Why would she believe that?

She still recalled the shock on Chakotay's face when she’d smiled at him the first time in the kiosk. That could not have been fabricated. He sounded convinced that she was Kathryn and he was Chakotay. She believed him now because her trust in him was instinctive, from that first moment when he asked her to. She shook her head as the image of her lying on top of him, seducing him came to terrorise her again.

_Don't go there. Trust him with your whole heart._

Then suddenly another image blinded her. She saw herself  lying in Chakotay's arms on the ground. He was crying, a wild fearsome wolf-like cry, willing her to stay alive.

_Remember…you didn't die._

But suddenly the image was gone. She felt a headache coming, starting at the base of her neck and crawling like a thousand beetles upwards, eating inside her head, turning her brain to mush. It was hopeless trying to remember anything. Giving a little cry, she shut off the shower. 

"I must ask Chakotay to tell me about my past."

While she dressed the beetles kept up their burrowing, excruciating pain shooting through her. For a brief, mad, impossible moment she wished that Dorron had injected her so that she didn't have to remember anything. She stumbled from the small bathroom to join the other women in the main room. From a great distance,  she heard voices, a little child calling her, then women who held her, concerned as they cried her name - Majja…Majja...

Slowly she lost her fragile hold on reality as she slipped from their hands and slid down, down into the depths of darkness where she'd dwelled so many times.

****

The small sick bay was bathed in soft low illumination, throwing shadows against the bulkheads. Kathryn lay on the biobed, a light throw covering just over the rise of her bosom. Her breathing was normal although somewhat shallow. He'd thought to keep holding her hand, but abandoned the idea lest she open her eyes.

She didn't know him, was what he kept reminding himself. How would she react to the familiarity with which he was touching her? Although, God help him, he wanted to haul her into his arms and hold her tightly to him, kiss away all her fears and assure her over and over that she was free.

Sighing, he just kept staring at her, wringing his hands together, at times cursing himself for his decision not to caress her face, kiss her soft lips, for imagining that she would respond to him purely as a client who paid for her services. He blinked several times, willing away the desire to cry, admonishing himself to remain steadfast to do the job he was sent to do. He had succeeded, but not before he had to use extreme measures to reach Kathryn.

Now she lay sleeping peacefully. The EMH had gone offline an hour ago.

Chakotay'd rushed her to sickbay after hearing the women shouting, calling for him or Isner. He'd found her on the floor, with an hysterical Andrew lying over her. He'd lifted the child and handed him to Wadra, comforting  him briefly that his mommy would be alright.

Then he'd lifted Kathryn effortlessly and carried her the short distance to the sickbay, activating the EMH the second the door opened and he stepped inside.

"Please state - " the EMH started, then, "Admiral Janeway!"

"Help her, Doc. The women said she was clutching her head when she came out of the bathroom. Just clear the - "

"A massive migraine, not unlike what she suffered on Voyager, Captain."

"Just clear her headache - "

"But - "

"For now, Doc. That's an order."

The Doctor had nodded, decidedly unhappy about Chakotay's instruction. So he treated Kathryn for the pain. Then he also administered a sedative.

"She also suffers from prolonged lack of sleep over several weeks if not months. I'll wake her when her heightened pheromone levels have subsided to normal."

The EMH had continued his testing, shaking his head several times.

"Drugged over a prolonged period," the Doctor added, "for months, maybe years."

And suddenly remembering , Chakotay searched his sling bag for the phials he'd found in Dorron's apartment. Handing them to the EMH, he'd sat down on a chair next to the biobed, prepared for the hologram's outraged uttering.

"This is a memory erasing drug! Given even in small doses to humans will almost certainly ensure a complete memory wipe. But, Captain, the amount of poison in Admiral Janeway's system suggests that she had been given a double, even triple dose - "

"I know, Doc - "

"Does Admiral Janeway know who she is?" the EMH asked, frowning heavily as a light dawned on him.

Chakotay had remained unresponsive long enough that the EMH repeated his question. It was what shocked and pained him the most, the fact that Kathryn didn't recognise him. She knew him now only because he'd told her that was who he was.

"No," he admitted finally. "And that is the problem we have right now. I am convinced any sudden complete memory retrieval will cause serious trauma."

"There is something I ought to know, Captain. I am the admiral's physician - "

"I know." Chakotay gave a deep sigh. "Kathryn has lived in captivity for three years, Doc. For at least two of those years, she was used as a sex slave. I am going to insist her medical records for this period be classified at the highest level possible. 

The EMH had nodded severely. Chakotay didn't need to explain more than what he'd suggested of the kind of activities Kathryn Janeway had been forced to do. She had a little boy and the two of them needed protection of the highest order.

Now she lay sleeping peacefully. He had a few things to do still, like preparing a sleeping cubicle for Andrew in her quarters.

***

"I wish to go with you, Captain Chakotay. I wish to remain with Majja - "

"Her name is Kathryn," Chakotay interjected.

The older woman nodded solemnly.

"Kathryn. I have always known her as Majja, you must understand. Forgive me - "

"No matter. You have the right to return to your homeworld. Isner and I will see that you all return to your people."

"I have been away from my home too long," the old woman said sadly. "There is nothing for me there. With Andrew I have purpose. I have always taken care of him, from the time he was born - "

"You were present at his birth?" Chakotay asked, his eyes narrowing.

Wadra nodded. "Yes, I assisted with Andrew's birth. When I met Kathryn, she was already known as Majja. I realised that for months Dorron had altered her memory. But when Andrew was born, Kathryn was lucid enough in those moments to name him. After that…"

She sighed. "After that, Dorron made her his toy. I took care of the baby. Please, there is nothing for me on Krepek. I would rather stay with Kathryn and Andrew and help to take care of him."

"I understand, Wadra. There are many things I need to do after we leave here. You are welcome to stay. I'll let Isner know."

Wadra sagged back on the couch. "Thank you! Please, when will Kathryn recover?"

"I must warn you that when her memories are reintegrated, she may not recognise you, understand?"

Wadra nodded, then frowned deeply, as if a stray thought had struck her. She gasped as her eyes held Chakotay's gaze.

'What is it? Is there more?"

"During those lucid moments when Kathryn gave birth, I could see that she was herself, if only for a few precious minutes. As if giving birth opened the gates to her memory. She cried out a name. It made no sense to me at the time, but now, it has fallen into place.

"She called out a name? Whose?"

"Your name, Captain Chakotay."

*****

END CHAPTER 6


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what happens at home, with Kathryn's loved ones waiting for her?

**Alpha Quadrant: Indiana - home of the Janeways 2381**

Adam Ponsonby landed his shuttle on the private landing pad a hundred meters away from the farmhouse. His heart was pounding so ferociously that he clutched his chest, hoping it was not his old heart murmur. Elizabeth kept warning him to 'take it easy', that there were still things that couldn't be cured by 24th century medicine.

"Your heart is still very good, Adam," she'd admonished him during his last medical, "so don't strain it by worrying so!"

Gretchen was worried, her brow marked by permanent frown lines. Her burdens were his too. They'd married two years before Voyager returned home after seven years in the Delta Quadrant. He'd loved her from the moment he'd met her, so many years ago, before she met and married Edward Janeway. But Gretchen was not his to love. She'd loved Edward, his best friend, though he'd met Gretchen first. That was all water under the bridge now after Gretchen had finally agreed to marry him.

Adam loved Gretchen and from the times her daughters were very little, he'd adored them from afar, always remaining just outside the close-knit family circle, wary of intruding. So he loved her and he loved her daughters from a distance. He'd remained a bachelor all his life until he married Gretchen.

Making his way home, walking across the grounds strewn with autumn leaves, his heart began racing again. He'd been in his office when Owen commed him an hour ago. He had never been so pleased and prayed that his heart would withstand the weight of good news. They all knew, after the first subspace communication from Captain Chakotay the day before, that Kathryn had been found, although she still remained in captivity. 

While Voyager's crew were overjoyed to be home at last, he'd noticed that Kathryn appeared somewhat unhappy. Oh, she'd smiled and laughed and shook hands and gave interviews, but both he and Gretchen had seen the lurking sadness whenever she thought no one was looking. They'd sensed it had to do with her first officer, especially when Owen's son Tom had been so vocal about the unusual friendship that had existed between the command team. In a letter Tom had written his mother, he'd hinted that Captain Janeway was in love with her first officer, but chose duty above love. Tom, B'Elanna and Harry Kim had expressed their bitterness when Chakotay had chosen Seven of Nine. During those two months Kathryn had been home, she'd been at pains to avoid the couple. 

Adam knew, from his own unrequited longing during the years Gretchen had been married to Edward, how Kathryn's eyes lit up whenever someone mentioned Chakotay that her love for him had never died. She still loved him, of that they were certain. Her decision to marry Daryl Wentworth came as a huge shock to them, and even greater disappointment when Daryl took her away for what he called an extended honeymoon. Had they warned Kathryn then of Wentworth's shady dealings with groups they'd identified as counter to the Federation's ideals, would she have listened? Captain Chakotay and Seven of Nine worked at Headquarters those first months and it couldn't have been easy for her watching the man she loved with another woman. Kathryn had been adamant she wanted to marry Wentworth "because he asked me." Those were her words.

Wentworth was killed and Kathryn vanished Gretchen and Phoebe had just welcomed home a long lost daughter and sister when she disappeared again, this time under mysterious circumstances. The fact that they suspected she was still alive was known only to a few people. 

Because they knew of the sensitive nature of Wentworth's dealings - something he'd successfully hidden from Kathryn - he and Paris had decided also to list Kathryn as 'killed in action" so that they could send Captain Chakotay on his covert mission to search for her. For three years they firmly believed that she was still alive somewhere and every time Chakotay checked in with them via subspace, their hope soared that he'd found her. Chakotay had always assured them that he was close and his communication that he was on a space station called Darog Bohl, that he was investigating unusual occurrences had again raised their expectations. Then yesterday's message, that he'd found Kathryn. It was short, just that he'd found her but that she was in captivity and that he was preparing to launch a rescue.

In Paris' office earlier, they'd both been anxious after Chakotay's subspace message came through to them. Anxious and shocked and surprised. It was why he now trudged over crisp autumn leaves to the Janeway homestead, to tell his wife of the latest news. He'd already absorbed the import of the message, of Kathryn's life. He was Starfleet, he'd seen the best and worst of human nature. 

Sighing deeply, he approached the porch of the farmhouse. Unsure of how Gretchen would receive the news, he opened the front door.

***** 

Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby sat down on the couch, her eyes filling with tears. Only yesterday she'd learned that Kathryn had been found, although she was still a captive somewhere. She'd always had faith in Chakotay that he'd find Kathryn. The past three years had been difficult, her heart always racing out of control whenever Chakotay communicated with them. She'd lived in a kind of limbo for a long time. Were it not for dear Adam, she would have sunk into the same depression Kathryn had when Edward and Justin died.

But Adam had been her strength, her mainstay during the last five years. Adam whom she finally married - her gentle, tall, lanky kind-hearted warrior who had loved her long before she married Edward. She could lean on him, as could Phoebe. Kathryn had barely gotten to know Adam, then she’d vanished. 

Her heart overflowed.

"Kathryn is safe now?" she asked again, watching her husband while tears streamed down her face. 

"Yes, she is. Chakotay rescued her from a den of evil."

"She was a slave? To please men?"

The last words expelled on a sob as the reality of Kathryn's life began to sink in. She'd already asked her question three times, as if she needed to hear Adam's reply over and over. Patient Adam who just stood in front of her while she wept.

She heard his sigh. Chakotay had not said it in so many words, but it wasn't difficult to imagine what 'life in captivity' meant. They were hard, unpalatable facts which they had to absorb, and to reassure their daughter that none of what had happened to her was her fault. Kathryn was a victim, that was the bottom line. But would their daughter's inner strength be enough to live with the realities of that life, to shelve it somewhere no one could see, even Kathryn Janeway?

"Yes, unfortunately, my love."

"But she lives," Gretchen sobbed, "and Chakotay rescued her, her warrior who promised loyalty to her forever. He made us that promise too, Adam, didn't he? Kathryn must know he and Seven of Nine split up, she must know to forgive him."

"I am sure they will work those things out. But, honey, remember he said Kathryn had been regularly drugged to repress her memories. She doesn't know him at the moment, only that he has assured her that they do know one another."

"Yes," Gretchen sobbed. "Now tell me more. There is more, is there not, Adam? Please tell me everything Chakotay has said in his message."

Then Adam knelt down in front of her, took her hands in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. It was warm in the room, heat generated from a low fire in the great hearth. Outside, leaves drifted lazily on their journey to earth, golden leaves that heralded beauty, the coming of winter. Gretchen hardly noticed the falling leaves or a squirrel that darted down the trunk and hurried away. Darcy, Kathryn's setter, scurried ineffectively after it, sights and sounds that hovered mainly in the background as Gretchen waited for Adam to speak. Adam patted her hands, opened his mouth, closed it again then sighed rather elegantly. He cleared his throat.

"Kathryn has a son."

"A - A…son? Daryl Wentworth's?" she asked, her voice filled with incredulity. "I am a grandmother? We are grandparents?"

"No, not Wentworth's child," Adam replied, squeezing her hands gently. 

"An alien from that quadrant? A stranger?" Her sadness began encroaching, filling her. "Was the child a result of Kathryn's captivity? How sad for Kathryn!

"No, Gretchen. Perhaps this part of Captain Chakotay's message is the best part - "

"You kept the best for last. I should kill you, Adam!"

"Andrew - "

"His name is Andrew?"

"Yes, honey. Dear Edward's middle name."

"She thought of us in her greatest moments of need. My poor baby! Oh, continue! Please!"

"Kathryn was already pregnant when she left Federation space. Chakotay revealed in his message that he and Kathryn were intimate the night before Voyager docked at Earth's Orbital Station - "

"You mean…you mean that Chakotay - ?"

"Yes, Chakotay is little Andrew's father, although, given Kathryn's memory loss, she doesn't know that. He says the boy has his mommy's eyes and his daddy's dimples."

"Oh, poor Kathryn! I can only imagine how much she's had to endure!"

"She is in very, very good hands now, my love - "

"If Kathryn was pregnant," Gretchen suddenly interjected, "how old can little Andrew be if she already conceived that night with Chakotay?"

"You know the EMH is on Chakotay's vessel."

"Yes, you sent his programme two years ago, along with a horde of other things he had to use - "

"I'm sure the EMH can determine a date of birth for Andrew although I think he is - "

"Just over two years old! Oh, she has suffered!"

Gretchen broke down again, weeping brokenheartedly while Adam sat down next to her and comforted her. She felt how his shoulders shook too. In between bouts of weeping, she sobbed how they couldn't wait for Kathryn's return, how much or how little they'd have to announce to the world that she was alive after all, what a hero Chakotay was, Kathryn's eternal warrior. 

Eventually, the weeping stopped.

****

Adam knew the moment Gretchen reverted to her old self - straightforward, no-nonsense, sharp, just like both Kathryn and Phoebe. His wife glared at him then pushed him a little away from her. His heart sank. When she was like this, he was going to get his orders just like he knew Owen Paris had to face dear Elizabeth who was his physician and who kept warning him to take it easy and not strain his heart. 

"Now, Adam, you will let me know about every single message Chakotay sends you. What they are doing, how Kathryn is progressing, how little Andrew is, when they arrive home. Don't think I don't know that you sent specifications for the hyperdrive to Chakotay that should cut their journey home by half. Is that right? Adam? Are you listening, Adam?"

"I am listening, my love. Yes, we were always going to send hyperdrive specifications the moment we knew that Chakotay had found Kathryn. Given their current coordinates, they should be here about three months from now."

"Good. That Wentworth, may his soul rot in hell, destroyed my daughter. When she comes home, I want to love her with all my heart and more and tell her she is alright."

"Yes, dear."

"We must convert Phoebe's old room into a little boy's room. I wonder, does Andrew speak English, or the language of alien races? What do you think, Adam?"

"Boy's room. Yes, I'm sure he speaks his mother tongue."

Then a tear rolled down her cheek again. This time she gripped her husband's hand.

"Thank God Chakotay found her!"

********** 

**Palings - the Paris family home**

"He has rescued her," Elizabeth Paris stated as she gazed at her husband. "I am right, am I not?"

Owen Paris could only nod. She knew what he was thinking before he knew what he was going to think. That was Elizabeth Illingsworth-Paris. Sometimes he was just better off to remain in his office without having to look into her crystal blue eyes and not feel the earth was ready to swallow him whole. 

He hadn't wanted to comm his wife from his office. Finding Kathryn remained a sensitive concern, therefore better to inform his wife in person. She'd waited for him in the lounge as if she knew intuitively that he had news, good or bad. Only yesterday he’d told her that Chakotay had found Kathryn with the promise that her rescue was under way. 

Very few of the Voyager inner circle knew that Kathryn was still alive somewhere. She had been listed as killed in action so that they could launch a covert search for her because they believed from the outset that she had survived the shuttle crash in which her husband died. Fool man to trade his wife in a trafficking ring. 

"Yes, dear. Chakotay has rescued Kathryn. Very soon they will leave for home. There is a lot to be done still, so - "

"Oh, I can keep quiet, Admiral Paris. Kathryn is as dear to me as Tom and B'Elanna and the kids. But, honey, I remember a time when you were both damaged by the Cardassians. I am under no illusion what she must have suffered…out there." Elizabeth paused, took a deep breath and blinked hard to prevent a tear from seeping through her closed eyelids. She remembered the time when Owen had refused all counselling and his protégé had been equally adamant that she didn't need it either. But the months and years following their capture by the Cardassians had changed her dear husband to one who found communicating very difficult. Kathryn had insulated herself, had become even more aloof after her father and fiancé died. The Cardassians didn't spare her husband and Kathryn. "No illusion, Owen," she said as she touched his arm gently. "Chakotay will be her counsellor on their journey home. The way I know Kathryn, she will want to refuse counselling."

"Have you finished, Elizabeth, dear?"

"Oh. There is more?"

"Kathryn has a son."

"What? That bastard Wentworth fathered a child with Kathryn?"

"No."

"Then…who? Oh, holy horror! Someone out there who abused her?"

"No."

"Damn it, Owen!"

"Captain Chakotay is the boy's father. She was pregnant when she left Federation space. Seems she and Chakotay uhm…uhm…"

"He is the father?"

"Yes. Now, dear, please don't tell the others yet until Adam and I have received more updates. Kathryn has been kept in a drugged state since her capture three years ago. She has little memory of her past and the people in her life. When they return, she will be your patient."

Elizabeth nodded, saddened by Kathryn's fate, yet a sliver of hope remained in her. 

"She is the bravest woman I know."

***** 

Owen Paris stood behind his desk. In front stood Tom, B'Elanna, Harry and Seven of Nine. All appeared apprehensive, yet curious. Seven remained impassive, but the occasional twitch of her jaw belied the calmness she displayed on the outside. 

"I must thank you all for the stellar work done on developing hyperdrive to enhance the warp capacity of smaller vessels," he told them. 

"I guess there was a definite plan, Dad? Not just Federation shuttles?"

"I was under the impression we were working on improving warp speed on shuttles," Seven of Nine said.

"So, what was it for, Admiral, if not just for our own smaller vessels?"

"Kathryn is alive." 

Owen waited for their reaction. 

"Oh. That." B'Elanna smiled as she spoke. "You didn't fool us. We know you listed her as dead," she added. 

"Well, yes - "

"And Chakotay didn't just vanish because he was heartbroken over her 'death'," Seven said.

"No," Owen admitted. "We sent Chakotay to search for Kathryn - "

"Why didn't you send Voyager? And us?" Harry asked, a little outraged.

"The mission was and still is covert. Chakotay found Kathryn and has rescued her. Yesterday we sent him all your specifications to install the hyperdrive in his vessel."

"But we completed those trials two years ago!" B'Elanna exclaimed. 

"Two years ago, Kathryn was still missing. Chakotay needs Kathryn's scientific knowledge and experience to help him install the enhanced warp drive. They are on a space station called Darog Bohl in the Gamma Quadrant. Their six month journey will be cut by half once the new drive is installed."

"He's bringing her home," Seven murmured. "That is good news. Indeed, that is the best news."

"Yes, only, it will be some time before Kathryn can be fully integrated into Starfleet. What she will need is time. As you know, the mission was covert from the start. Captain Chakotay has single-handedly broken a major trafficking ring in the Gamma Quadrant."

"That was what Wentworth was involved in?"

"Yes, and in a deal that had gone wrong, he was killed. Now, I have told you enough. Do not pass this on to anyone until we are sure Chakotay and Kathryn are through the Bajoran wormhole. Kathryn especially will appreciate people not knowing too much."

"That all, Dad?"

"Yes," Owen Paris sighed. "Dismissed."

*************** 

"Three years," began Harry once they were outside the building, "is a long time to search for Admiral Janeway."

"I can't believe we didn't suspect this in the beginning. Three years! But thank goodness he found her." B'Elanna sounded angry. "We could have joined in the hunt, maybe gotten her back sooner - "

"Admiral Paris is right," Seven said evenly. "An entire ship would have raised alarms too quickly. Chakotay was the right person to undertake the mission alone.

"Seven," Harry began, "you couldn't have known that on the morning you broke up with Chakotay, that Admiral Janeway would marry Wentworth. I wonder what drove her to that decision?"

"Yes, I wonder too, although the answer might be more straightforward than we imagine."

"You think?"

"Look, what could make Kathryn Janeway marry a lowlife like Wentworth right out of the blue?" Tom asked.

"Knowing Chakotay and Seven were still an item and there was nothing she could do about it?" Harry offered.

"But it's more than that, surely. A sudden decision must have something that spurred it, from deep within - " Seven said.

"Perhaps not so deep. We're only speculating here, but your dad knows more that he’s letting on, Tom."

"I know, B'Elanna. Whatever he knows could only have come through a subspace message yesterday and today. They are maybe three hours ahead of us. So speculate all you want."

"Fine. Admiral Janeway was pregnant," B'Elanna said, challenging the others. 

"Wow. Could it have been that simple? But could Wentworth be the father?" 

"Huh-uh. How about the Boss himself? Ever thought about that? They must have had a last night on Voyager fling… Sorry, Seven, it could be true, if Admiral Janeway was pregnant at the time she married Wentworth."

"I am not offended, Harry," Seven started by way of explaining. "Chakotay and I were wrong from the start. A pity I ended it too late. I will tell you this, Chakotay would have remained loyal to me, because that's the way of the warrior. But I was never the real object of his affection. I should have ended it sooner. If he and Admiral Janeway were intimate, I hold no grudge or animosity."

Harry hooked his arm through Seven's. "I'm glad you ended it with the big guy, Seven. Else I would have remained a lonely ensign looking everywhere for affection. You are my heart's desire."

"As you are mine. You tickle my nanoprobes, Harry."

B'Elanna and Tom laughed. "Boy, will Admiral Janeway be surprised when she sees how things have turned out between you two!" Tom said.

As Tom and B'Elanna watched Harry and Seven leave, he put his arm round her shoulder. He gazed up at the sky for long moments, deep in thought, until he spoke at last.

"Know what I think, honey?" he asked.

"What?"

"Life back home for Admiral Janeway won't be easy."

 

END CHAPTER 7


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the sage continues...

* * *

 

**Gamma Quadrant - New Liberty on route to Earth**

 They stood in the quarters Chakotay had reserved for Kathryn two years ago when he'd finally managed to acquire a vessel large enough that he could house about ten crew. The admirals had given him as much assistance as possible to install the latest Federation technology. A high quality rust bucket which appeared dilapidated on the outside, but was fitted with latest Federation specs.

 He'd had Kathryn's quarters planned right from the outset, always firmly believing he'd find her. Chakotay had followed trails that had seemed dead, then suddenly, after the merest tip-off, had appeared to be live again, which then led to new leads. Darog Bohl had been his last station and the furthest he'd travelled from Federation space. The rooms resembled her cabin on Voyager, although a little smaller. He'd wanted her to feel at home, in a place that at least imitated the real thing and created a sense of familiarity.

Kathryn stood near the viewport, gazing at the inky darkness which was intermittently streaked by stars as the New Liberty, on autopilot,  travelled at warp. They'd covered only a few lightyears from Darog Bohl after Isner's ship had been released by the station's authorities.

Now she remained quite still, like he'd seen her so many times in her quarters on Voyager with that same reflective expression in her face. His insides ached to see her so exposed, stripped of everything that was Kathryn Janeway. Only in her subconscious mood could he detect the woman he had loved from the first day he'd seen her. On the counter next to the new vidcom, he picked up her commbadge. It was the same one she'd worn when she'd left with Wentworth on their fateful honeymoon.

"This was the commbadge you used," Chakotay said as he pinned it on her. She kept staring through the viewport as if she didn't hear him. "Kathryn…"  When she turned to look at him almost distractedly, he continued. "Little Andrew also gets one, as well as Wadra and Linnea. They are traveling with us."

"I know. They love Andrew - "

"And they are loyal to you."

Kathryn nodded solemnly. She turned and met his gaze.

"I don't know how to thank you, Chakotay. I really didn't care where you would take me as long as it was away from Dorron."

"I'm taking you home, Kathryn, to your family, to people who love you."

"You keep saying that. I don't have any clear recollection of my life or know that I am supposed to have one. I am Majja - "

"Kathryn…" Chakotay cautioned her gently when it seemed she was sinking back into slave mode. "Your memory will be reintegrated gradually over perhaps four treatments. Please, will you trust me?"

Chakotay felt like someone punched him in the gut when her eyes darkened as she nodded. He realised that she had no option but to place her trust in him.

"This cabin," she began, "you say I had one like it?"

"On the starship Voyager. It's a little smaller but the specs are the same."

"Did I wear a red uniform?" she asked.

Chakotay's eyes widened and he smiled, touching her arm gently.

"Indeed. You were in red, as was I. Red signifies 'command' in the organisation we both belong to. You were a leader, Kathryn."

"I had this image, before I collapsed outside the bathroom…"

"Please, will you explain?" Chakotay asked, hoping fervently it wouldn't lead to another headache.

"I was standing on the bridge of a ship. You were standing close to me, dressed like you are now. Then - "

Kathryn frowned furiously as she tried to recall another image. "Another image… I turned and saw a plaque against the bulkhead. Does it mean something?"

Chakotay's heart hammered suddenly painfully against his ribcage. Could she have seen Voyager's plaque?"

"I can still picture the number - 74656… What does it mean, Chakotay?"

A punch to his gut. Kathryn saw images in her subconscious, but couldn't make any connection.

"It is the registry number of the starship USS Voyager."

"And I was an officer on board this ship?" she asked, her eyes suddenly a little more alive.

"Yes, a leader."

_You were captain of Voyager, Kathryn…_

"The women looked to me to lead them."

"See? You never forget. Leadership is instinctive in you."

His heart burned fiercely as he looked at her. All the paint had been scrubbed off her body, her golden hair had a healthy gloss to it and she looked like he remembered. For a moment he wondered what her reaction to him would be once she knew the history between them. Would she remember that they were not together? Remember that he had made a life with Seven of Nine?

She gave him a wan smile. 

"I am glad Andrew will remain with me."

"He likes his little cot," Chakotay said. "And I believe his attachment to Wadra might be too suffocating. He needs you with him every day now."

_And I will teach him every legend of my people…_

"Thank you, Chakotay. I know I can trust you. I have from that first moment, you know, when you called my name in - in that kiosk. My memory will be restored and I can know my real history."

"You're welcome. Now, Kathryn, you can access your vidcom and look at Voyager's specs or the ship's crew complement."

"Why?"

"That is so that you can acquaint yourself with the crew who served with you on Voyager."

He'd kept the official logs as well as Kathryn's personal logs encrypted until her memory was fully restored. That way there'd be no surprises sprung on her. He didn't want to tell her as yet that Voyager was her ship. She had developed an dreadful headache a few days ago just trying to remember her life.

The other women had transported to Isner's ship which his friend promptly renamed and registered as the _Sunbird_ and they were on their way to their respective homeworlds. It had been a tearful goodbye between Kathryn and the others. They had become friends, as well as slaves together sharing their misery.

He'd downloaded Dorron's logs from the former Vodar, then deleted those files after ensuring all the information was safely encrypted on his computers. He wanted to analyse all the data, especially anything relating to when Kathryn had fallen into his hands. Somewhere between her life as a dancing sex slave and her disappearance from Federation space, Andrew was born. There were other women still listed as missing as well. He had killed men in order to break the trafficking  rings but he could only do so much because his primary mission had always been to search for and find Kathryn.

Some files on Kathryn's vidcom - Voyager's official logs as well as Kathryn's personal logs - were encrypted, to be introduced later, once he was certain she could absorb the truth about her own life.

Moved from his reverie he he felt her gaze on him, he gave a sheepish smile.

"Is there a directory for children's literature?" she asked.

Her question stunned him. He’d just assumed she would know and he could kick himself for forgetting she was still Majja whose knowledge about the capabilities of Federation consoles remained limited. She'd told him that she'd written little stories in English so that Andrew could learn her language. He'd downloaded those files from Dorron's consoles to her vidcom as well.

He touched her shoulder, disappointed that he couldn't be closer to her. There was a hopeful look in her eyes which didn't appear so glazed anymore. But he wasn't fooled. Dorron's poison would take a while to work out of her system.

"All the literature of most of the homeworlds in Federation space, Kathryn," he assured her. "As much as you wish to access of Earth's great children's stories."

She smiled, that little quirky smile he always loved so much about her, although it seemed less striking, quite tentative, he thought. She still appeared a little wonky after collapsing two days ago. The EMH had cleared up her headache but had been deactivated by the time she woke up. Chakotay simply told Kathryn that he'd given her an injection and sedative to let her sleep.

"Thank you."

He touched her cheek briefly,  desperately wanting to prolong the contact. He was simply her rescuer, nothing more. It was agonising to play the role and not overload her with information she couldn't absorb readily, especially of the personal kind. When they'd parted more than three years ago, they had done so as friends, and had agreed to have one night of intimacy. Kathryn wasn't ready for that truth. For now, she needed only to know that they had been friends and colleagues.

Andrew was with Wadra and Linnea, playing with his new toys which Chakotay had replicated. He seemed to love the Klingon targ, Flotter and Treevis, even a vintage Earth Smurf and Donald Duck! Through him the women were learning English as well, although they needed only to activate their commbadges to hear Kathryn and Chakotay speak. He was glad they'd made the decision to journey to Earth. They would be the only representatives of their species in Federation space. He'd explained that to them, but they were adamant -  they wanted to be with Kathryn and Andrew. At some point, he was going to interview both women who'd helped Kathryn in different capacities, especially Wadra.

"Come with me," he said at length, taking Kathryn's hand. "There is someone I want you to meet."

"I thought we were only three women, one male and one child on this vessel. Did someone transport here?"

Chakotay smiled. "In a manner of speaking." Then he wondered if Kathryn would make the connection that Andrew was his son before she recovered her memories. Sighing, he thought better not to pursue the issue with her. There were too many unknowns in the way Kathryn would react.

So he led her to the sick bay and entered once the doors slid open. Kathryn saw the biobed in the centre, her eyes lighting up as she recognised the room she'd been brought to after her collapse.

"The sick bay? But there's no one here."

"Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram."

Instantly the EMH appeared, a deep frown marring his forehead, his bald pate appearing extra shiny.

"Please state the nature of the medical emerg -"  His eyes widened when he saw Kathryn.

Before the Doctor could continue, Chakotay cut in.

"Kathryn, this is our EMH."

"A hologram."

"Indeed…Kathryn," the Doctor replied, careful not to use Kathryn's rank.

Chakotay observed her closely. Kathryn frowned and stumbled forward, giving a little cry. The doctor  guided her quickly to sit on the biobed.

"Kathryn! What is it? You look pale!" Chakotay exclaimed, his voice laced with concern.

She rubbed her forehead, confused when she looked first at the Doctor then turned to gaze at him.

"I…thought I saw something. I must have imagined it."

"Something that you remembered, from your past?"

"I don't know," she replied. The EMH scanned her, shaking his head.

"Don't worry too much then, will you? Our Doctor will begin the procedure tomorrow, once you've rested sufficiently and - "

"You were lying on a bed," she cut in, "like this one. I bent over you and couldn't wake you. I felt…" Kathryn stopped and the EMH gave him a meaningful look.

"Continue," Chakotay encouraged.

"The feeling that it distressed me a great deal. I feared you might die. Did I imagine that?"

He wanted to set her mind at ease because she was touching her forehead again.

"No, you did not, Kathryn - "

"Were we friends?"

_I always wanted to be more than friends. Always wanted you to love me the way I loved you. The way I still love you…_

"Yes, Kathryn," he said, sighing. "We were great friends. I had been overtaken by an alien, in that image you saw. When you vanquished the alien, I recovered."

"I don't wish to experience that feeling again."

"Doc?"

"It would be reasonable to assume that your past is made up of peaks and troughs. The sadness mixed with joy. None of us are immune to life's hard knocks."

"Even yours? A hologram?"

"Even a hologram."

Kathryn smiled. "The headache has gone. Thank you, Doctor. I'm glad you are on this vessel. My - my son… I think he might need medical attention."

"Don't worry, Ad - Kathryn," the EMH said. "I've cleared him already. A Very healthy child."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Doc, I'm sending you two women who will be travelling with us. They are from the planet Krepek. Do a complete medical on them both."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Don't worry, I'll deactivate myself," he said, after giving Kathryn a searching look.

Chakotay nodded, then guided Kathryn again from the sick bay to her new quarters. He told her he had work to do on the bridge, since the New Liberty had been running on autopilot.

"I can help you pilot."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Chakotay responded. "I'll see you tonight for dinner."

The emotions warred in her eyes. He couldn't tell her how she was never good with preparing meals and always had fights with the replicator. It would be interesting to see what happened tonight, he thought.

***********

She was on fire, like a thousand insects burrowed just beneath her skin. She recognised the sensation, had felt it a hundred times before. The heat spread through her body, attacking every nerve and sinew, creating whorls of desire that reached to her core. This time the transition was unbearably slow. She cupped her breasts, then moved her fingers across her belly, caressing the soft planes of her skin, fluttering over her navel.

Straying further down, almost hesitantly, she felt for her soft folds, giving a pleasant moan when her fingers came away smeared with her juices. She sighed deeply as she allowed the familiar sensations to settle in her. They made her new, changed her from just Majja to Majja the Magnificent.

Dorron called her Majja the Magnificent.

She opened her eyes and lay waiting to adjust to the darkness. In the far corner, she could discern the shadowy impressions of Andrew's cot. He lay in a deep sleep. She knew he would not wake until morning.

She was itching, dying to be assuaged, to cool her body heat. When she was like this, there was only one way the burn would simmer and become cool again. They'd had dinner early in the evening and she'd felt little stirrings of pleasure whenever she felt his gaze on her. Now she wanted to feel him deep inside her, to move and move as hard as he could. She'd enjoyed the way he looked at her. Just thinking about him turned her into a wanton seductress begging for release.

She had to go to him.

So Majja rose from her bed and quietly exited her quarters, down the corridor to the doors of Chakotay's cabin. She had a sudden vision as she stood in front of the access panel, of Chakotay punching in numbers. The image was gone as soon as it appeared. But she had been busy at her vidcom all evening after Andrew had fallen asleep, familiarising herself with authorisation codes, puzzled as to how she had been able to decrypt them. Now, as she stood contemplating how to get in, she began to key in a few codes.

The doors slid open. As she stepped inside, she could feel the wetness between her thighs, that it had become stickier. She wanted him, wanted him to ride her until her flesh protested though she knew that wouldn’t happen. She had taken large alien species, relishing the way their enormous cocks ploughed into her centre.

He was human like her and she wanted to welcome Chakotay to her bosom. She wanted to do more than just rub her hips against him in some counterfeit action of sex. She wanted to do the real thing with him, for had he not paid to fuck her? Had he not paid more than the normal fee to keep her in his bed the whole night? Had he not paid to keep her exclusively with him so that no other man serviced her? Dorron would be happy, she knew. He liked the sound of money. He liked fucking her even more. Just like in the old days after she had serviced three or four clients in one evening, Dorron kept her in his bed and made her come over and over. He would inject her with pheromones to make her come multiple times, make her body do things that made him crow loudly with the control he exercised over her. But she was accustomed to Dorron's power. He was no longer there, yet her body still craved sex as much as ever.

This time her body was not painted in the burgundy she favoured or the white, nor her hair gelled and plastered to her scalp. It hung loose in golden brown tresses. She stood in front of his bed, the light at very low illumination, just enough that she could see his outline and the silhouette of his face. Slowly she dropped the satin gown she wore to reveal her naked body. It slid to the floor, a soft silken sound that caused his body to twitch.

As Chakotay opened his eyes, they connected instantly with her, as if he knew she was standing there.

At that moment Majja began her sultry dance, her body lissom, her leg muscles strained as she rose up on her toes, sashaying nimbly in movements learned from her early days of ballet. Her inner thighs dripped her juices just the way she always liked it. Her hands brushed over her bosom, her hips swaying, in wanton craving to seduce Chakotay…

**

He was deeply asleep but the moment a waft of air crept over his face his eyes opened and he saw Kathryn dancing naked as he had seen her that first time in the Glitter Pit. He frowned, not at the unauthorised entry into his cabin, but that she was nude, the satin gown pooled at her feet, the same look of the seductress on her face.

"Kathryn?"

She stopped her movements and took a step forward.

"Service me, Chakotay. My body craves to be fucked."

"Light, one hundred percent illumination!"

Then he saw her in all her naked glory. Her body glistened from heat that exuded from her skin. He saw the tell-tale signs of juices that lubricated her inner thighs. She smelled of pheromones. She smelled heavily of sex.

It was her eyes though, more than her perspiring body and obvious flowing juices, that broke his heart in the moments he stared at her. She appeared glazed, but lustful. He wanted to weep. He rose slowly then he bent down and pulled the gown up and over her shoulders, tying the band thoughtfully around her waist, but her hands stilled his as she untied the band again.

"Kathryn - "

"I am Majja," she said softly, in a husky voice. "You paid to be with me exclusively. I am ready, Chakotay," she murmured as she pushed him back so that his legs buckled, sending him sprawling across the bed in a surprising movement of strength.

"Kathryn! No! That is not who you are any longer!" he cried as she flung herself over him, pulling his pants down swiftly, her mouth instantly at his crotch. He felt himself harden at the contact, groaning loudly as he tried to push her off him. But it was too late. He smelled her pheromones, his body awakened to the old call of his wild imaginings that he wanted to be with Kathryn like this. He was rock hard. Trying desperately to bank down his libido, he grabbed her heated face, her nostrils flaring, her lips parted so urge her to stop, from burying himself in her depths. She was strong, he realised with belated insight. He groaned in agony as she rubbed against him, straddling him easily. Then swiftly she impaled herself on him. Chakotay moaned loudly at the sudden impact of being lodged deep inside her. He heard her satisfied sound, like a wild keening. But the action gave him added impetus as he recovered at last and roughly pushed her from his body. Kathryn stumbled back several metres, shocked.

"You do not want me? I want to give to you payment, like the many clients I've had before."

He stood up, hauled her closer and pulled the gown over her.

"Kathryn! You are not yourself! That is Majja speaking and you are no longer Majja!"

"But you paid - "

"And you asked me to help you, to save you, Kathryn."

"My name is Majja…" she whimpered. "M-Majja…"

Then he shook her so hard her teeth chattered. "Listen to me, will you? You - are - not - Majja!"

"Make love to me, please. My body craves sex…"

"God, Kathryn!" he cried out when he saw her expression - need mixed with shame and heartache and desperation. Chakotay hauled her into his arms and held her trembling body for a long time. She never moved, remaining unresponsive. He had a sudden vision of a rabbit being picked up by its ears, remaining quite still so as to minimise the pain. He closed his eyes and tried to drive out the unwanted analogy.

Realising the pheromones were overpowering her, he made her sit on the bed, his own heated arousal settled. He wanted Kathryn, wanted her very much, but not like this.

"I want to make love with you, Kathryn," he breathed against her hair. "But not as a client, not as someone you think you must service. Understand?"

"Dorron always serviced me after my clients were done - "

"Kathryn, listen to me! I am not Dorron! I killed Dorron so you are free of him. He used you, my love. He used you to make a lot of money. He had no honour, no morals, no ethics, no love to give anyone! Do you understand? You are no longer under his influence, okay?"

Kathryn remained quiet a long time until at length, she nodded.

"Who am I?" she asked quietly. And Chakotay recognised in her words not just the simple identification of her real name, but Kathryn of Voyager, Captain Janeway of the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn who would disregard his good judgment in order to follow her own dictates, Kathryn the Good, Kathryn the Compassionate, Kathryn the Obstinate, Kathryn the friend and colleague. Everything good and bad that made the sum of all her parts - that Kathryn. She was Kathryn who had family waiting for her at home, that Kathryn who questioned her own identity.

"You are Kathryn!" he cried again, giving her a gentle shake this time.

Then he made her lie down on his bed. Sighing, he got up and walked to his closet where he kept his med-kits. Seconds later, he returned with a hypospray containing a serum the EMH had concocted to counteract the poisons of the pheromones. Kathryn watched him in silence as he approached the bed.

Chakotay could kick himself for not anticipating the long-term effects of the pheromones Dorron had so callously injected into her system. The one injection he'd given her in the Glitter Pit had obviously not been completely effective.

Quietly he pressed the hypospray against her neck. Her face was a study of emotions as he watched her. In her eyes flitted recognition. Then she sat up suddenly, looking around her, perhaps searching for something and not finding it.

"Chakotay? What am I doing here?" Kathryn jumped off the bed, the gown slipping off. "Oh!" He picked up the garment and tied the band round her waist.

"You were still under the control of the pheromones, I guess. You came here. Come, I'll - "

"Did I seduce you?" she asked as he walked with her to her quarters. "Andrew! I left him alone!"

"Don't worry. He is still fast asleep. I placed a transponder on his bedside table."

In her cabin, Kathryn rushed first thing to her son, making sure he was still breathing. Then she glanced at Chakotay.

"I am sorry. So sorry. I cannot help myself."

She began weeping softly as he led her to her bed. When she was settled again, he sat down next to her, patting her hand.

"Kathryn, I think I underestimated the power of the pheromones. Tomorrow I'll let the EMH start the first session to retrieve your memory," he whispered. "Remember, that part of your life is over, okay? I need a co-pilot!"

Kathryn lay in the low illumination, staring up at the man who had saved her life, the man who knew so much about her. He would ensure that her memory was restored.

And suddenly she felt a little afraid of what she might learn of her past.

Chakotay stayed with her until her eyes drooped. He held her hand in his, gratified minutes later when she fell into a deep sleep again. She didn't stir when he gently extricated his hand. He got up quietly and walked to Andrew's little corner. The child slept soundly, his breathing even, unhurried, in the way the very young slept.

Sighing, Chakotay bent down and kissed his son on the cheek, a lingering, gentle caress.

*************

END CHAPTER EIGHT


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> I won't be posting new chapters after this one. I would just like to finish the whole story, have all chapters edited first before posting again. I really do not know how long that will be. I do pray it won't be long! I know this is not ideal and would beg readers to give it another try once I have all the chapters up. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your understanding. 
> 
> CHAPTER 9 is dedicated to my reader Brittany, always so concerned about the characters. A chance comment on one of them led me to write Wadra in the way that I have. Once the story is complete, readers will see that she too, had a story to tell, as well as Linnea! 
> 
> vanhunks

 

* * *

 

For endless minutes, Kathryn stared at the photo of herself, dressed in a red uniform. A simple head and shoulders picture which, try as she might, did not prompt any recognition of its context. She only saw it as Kathryn Janeway, captain, USS Voyager, Intrepid Class.

She was a captain of a starship? A ship called Voyager? She had no recollection of being in uniform. None at all. No recollection of giving orders, of Chakotay being her subordinate. He was listed as Voyager's first officer and he was also dressed in red. The Chakotay she knew was forceful, commanding, who didn't appear to her like he needed second opinions.

But her own face, her severe hair style, the little half smile… It might as well have been a stranger staring back at her with those strong, firm features.

On impulse, she accessed the children's literature. Some bedtime stories for Andrew would do him the world of good. His speech proficiency was improving by the day because she was with him all the time now talking to him, as well as Chakotay taking time to play with him. Her son had taken an instant liking to Chakotay and only this morning, the word "papa" had slipped out. She'd read to him the fairy tale of the three bears last night, and Andrew had latched on to the "papa" of the papa bear.

_"Let me guess - yours is a bear."_

_"Why do you say that?"  
_

_"You strike me as the bear type."_

_"Thank you. The bear is a very powerful animal…"_

The vision was so sudden that Kathryn clutched her head. Clear as day, she saw herself sitting in a command chair, with Chakotay in the other chair leaning over to her. He smiled as he uttered the words. She wanted the image to be prolonged, for it heralded something of her past. If it went away, she wouldn't remember it. She wanted to remember it, so she tried to cling to the image, to make it her own, but already the edges of the picture were beginning to fade, until only the hazy vestiges remained and they too, slowly dissolved.

"Please stay…" she murmured, trying to remember more of that conversation. "Stay…"

Then it vanished completely, leaving a vacuum. Her disappointment keen, Kathryn gave a strangled cry of dismay, then switched off the vidcom. She felt the first stirrings of a headache and prayed it wouldn't affect her like it had on that first day. Her appointment with the EMH was scheduled for 1600. Hopefully her headaches would have subsided by then.

She would lunch with Wadra and Linnea first while Chakotay entertained Andrew in the holodeck. Flotter and Treevis had become his favourite characters and Chakotay enjoyed the time he spent with her son. When she saw the two of them together, she was struck by the resemblance, though it had little significance for her. Could it be just simple coincidence that both had raven hair, were tanned and had dimples?

_If I wished for a daddy for my little boy, I would have no trouble imagining Chakotay to be that man._

So for a few heady minutes, she happily indulged in imagining Chakotay as her son's daddy.

With a few hours to kill, Kathryn left Andrew with Wadra and headed for the bridge. She'd learned that Isner was already ten lightyears ahead, nearing a star cluster. A planet in the Caldek system was his destination to return two of the women. Isner had communicated with Chakotay, indicating that he would spend a month there so that he could oversee their integration into normal life and also spend much needed shore leave in warmth and sunshine.

Kathryn entered the bridge tentatively, not certain that Chakotay would welcome her there. He'd been very patient with her the previous night when she'd embarrassed herself by trying to seduce him. She had been mad, insane! Driven by the pheromones still highly active in her system, as well as the memory erasing drug Dorron had injected, she'd walked brazenly to his cabin, decrypted his codes and entered.

She had been Majja then, completely assured that she could seduce Chakotay the same way Dorron had taught her to do with her clients. For those mad moments, she was someone else, not the newly liberated Kathryn Janeway who didn't need to do those things anymore. A deeply ingrained part of her still leaned towards her false persona and her brain could not compute that it was no longer necessary to dance for him.

But she had wanted to repay him, to say thank you. In her Majja persona, she'd known of no other way to do so than to offer her body to him, free of charge. 

It was embarrassing when she'd literally woken as if from a very deep dream and saw his concerned face leaning above hers. He had taken it in such good spirit, had been at pains to remind her that she was free, no longer bound to someone who could order her to do things against her will.

Now, she was still somewhat wary of how he'd react because he'd been stern looking this morning, a tightness around his lips whenever he spoke to her. But she trusted him, and her trust was greater than her apprehension. She'd always promised herself that she would never cry, but last night she’d  wept, had leaned against Chakotay and felt so safe, had felt as if she could stay in his embrace until all her woes were gone.

That was how he made her feel.

"Hey…"

She shook herself from her reverie and saw Chakotay watching her closely. He sat at the conn, his hands splayed over several panels.

"I must apologise for my behaviour last night."

Before he responded, he indicated she sit in the chair next to his. It felt good, familiar even, to sit at the conn, feeling the thrill of the panels under her fingers. She gazed at the dark expanse, for once able to glance at viewscreens, something she had not been able to do often on Dorron's ship. Oh, she should stop bringing Dorron into her thoughts, she reminded herself.

"Hey…"

"Sorry."  She glanced at him, smiling sheepishly.

"Don't ever be sorry or apologise, Kathryn. Everything that had happened - " Chakotay wanted to bite his tongue as he almost let slip Wentworth's name, cautioning himself just in time. "Everything that happened," he continued, "was out of your control. It was not your fault. It was never your fault, understand?" 

When she didn't respond, he repeated, "Understand?"

"Yes. yes…I understand."

"Good. Now, you know how to work the conn, I can tell you at least that," he said as he saw her running her fingers over the panels.

"It feels very familiar, Chakotay, as if I've piloted this vessel before - "

"Not this vessel. But I can tell you that everything inside the New Liberty is Federation technology, especially this station. You have flown many shuttles, even piloted Voyager on occasion - "

"Voyager. The vessel I commanded?"

Chakotay glanced at her, a smile transforming his stern features.

"I see you've looked at the Voyager crew complement."

"You look very different from - from what I think must be an official picture.  You even look different from other human crew… Are - do you belong to some tribe where we come from?"

"I am Native American - "

"In your room I saw a wheel. Is that part of your heritage?"

"Yes, it is. It's called a medicine wheel."

Kathryn nodded, then leaned over to touch his ponytail briefly.

"Your hair has grown very long, almost as long as mine! I think the ponytail suits you."

Chakotay chuckled this time. "Now that I've found you, I'm going to cut it short again. I have been lazy in that department!"

Kathryn frowned. "What do you mean, 'Now that I've found you?'" she asked. 

"I've been searching for you. During my travels, I was told about someone of my own species in this sector. Got curious and uncovered an unsavoury trafficking ring as well."

It was not entirely the truth, but it seemed to satisfy her. He felt a sudden, burning lurch in his chest at the thought that she'd be in the medical bay to undergo the first session of her memory restoration in a matter of hours. How would she react? What would she retain? he wondered.

"How far is it until we reach Earth?" she asked, changing the subject when she saw how closed off he became again.

"We travel six months at warp seven. Maximum velocity for this ship is eight point two five. I have specifications for a new hyperdrive I must install to increase velocity to nine point nine seven five. Your expertise will be much appreciated - "

"I was a science officer on vessels before Voyager according to my crew information. I could help install it," she said, suddenly alive with enthusiasm. "I can make your vessel go faster…"

"At maximum warp we could be home in -"

"Half that time!"

"Indeed. Glad to have you on board, Kathryn."

"I haven't seen you eat, Chakotay. Why - why don't you go to lunch and I'll pilot until you return? After that I'll join Wadra and Linnea for a bite to eat. I've introduced them to some of the foods humans are used to."

"And?"

"Needless to say, they love pasta!"

"Thanks, Kathryn. I need a little break. Don't crash my ship, okay?"

"I won't!"

When Chakotay had left, Kathryn settled in to pilot the New Liberty. She'd already determined the distance they'd covered after leaving Darog Bohl. Relief surged through her - of freedom, of being able to do something on the ship, piloting the New Liberty, gazing at the streaks of stars as they travelled at warp. It was exhilarating. She experienced a kind of harmony with the way her fingers instinctively found the right panels. Chakotay had encrypted some of the specs but she didn't mind. She was acquainting herself very fast with at least one thing he'd assured her was a part of her former life.

She now knew they were colleagues on the USS Voyager. Were they only colleagues? Could they have been more than that? Like great friends - best friends even? What if they were even more than best friends? Could that have been possible? she wondered.

Kathryn sighed, urging her runaway thoughts away from those things that made her head ache. Slowly, the raging receded, slowed down until she became calm again. She was looking forward to installing the hyperdrive on the New Liberty.

*****

"Are you ready for this, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked. She was sitting on the biobed while the EMH prepared the serums. Her hands trembled even though she kept them folded on her lap. "Remember, the Doctor will inject a relaxant. Don't be afraid. You will not experience pain. I've seen those needles Dorron used. Doctor has removed those scars. The other part of the serum will reduce the pheromones in your body. They seem to regenerate without any being injected into you. But the rate of generation is decreasing. Doctor is making certain that they remain within normal human constraints."  Chakotay was gratified when Kathryn nodded.

"Please, lie down, Ad - eh, Kathryn," the EMH said, quickly correcting himself.

"Now, Kathryn, this is only stage one. The EMH will integrate all the information contained in Dorron's logs of the past year. You should remember everything of this period. Andrew would have been a year and few months old."

"My life as a dancer, the-the things I've done, will I remember that too?"

Chakotay stifled a curse as he grasped her hand. There was a mix of anticipation and fear in her eyes. But  he sensed her trust in him. It was all she could do - trust him. He was the only one who could fight for her and protect her interests. As much as it hurt him to admit it, he had to answer her question.

"Unfortunately, Kathryn, yes. You will remember. But you need to have all your memories, good and bad, restored. You used to counsel young crewmen that all those elements of the self shape the person you become."

"I said that?"

"Among others." Chakotay smiled, glad he didn't feel that instant rage again. Kathryn didn't need to see it, although he knew she sensed his moods, another of the subconscious things she experienced about him.

Kathryn looked at the EMH, nodding. "I'm ready now, Doctor."

The EMH began by injecting the serum, pressing the hypospray gently against her neck. As if Kathryn had been holding her breath for a long time, her body relaxed, like a balloon deflating until her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow but even. Chakotay pulled a light throw over her. It was one he'd kept in a closet in his own quarters - an afghan rug her mother had given him. He remembered that afternoon, the concern and sorrow in her eyes so evident.

"Please, Captain Chakotay, this is Kathryn's afghan blanket. Something from home, something familiar that she loved."

Now the throw covered Kathryn's lower body, and he hoped fervently that it would help her relax after the first phase. The EMH placed a cortical stimulator against Kathryn's forehead, another against her temple. The second disk served as a conductor once the doctor had begun the procedure from his computer.

When Chakotay nodded, the procedure started. He held Kathryn's hand in his, watching her closely as the two stimulators began their soft whirring sound. Information began to flow into her. Kathryn's body twitched at times shudders wracking her. Then she'd moan, a sound that began deep in her stomach as it heaved and fell. There were periods during the procedure that Chakotay wished they hadn't integrated her memories. Her hands stiffened, the one gripping his so tightly that he gave an involuntary groan of pain as her nails dug into his palm.

"Doctor - ?" he started as he glanced up at the EMH.

"I'm sorry, Captain. But it is necessary. Some must be very bad memories. Unfortunately, she has to relive them. Admiral Janeway will be the first to acknowledge that we must live with unpleasant memories as well as the pleasant ones."

"Spirits! Look at her!" 

For tears began to seep through her closed eyelids. What was happening in those dark dreams she was experiencing again? Would she tell him about them? Would she be strong enough? he wondered. He wanted to scream at the EMH to stop because Kathryn's body was convulsing. But the Doctor, noticing this, administered another injection that settled her once again.

"Only another half hour," he heard the Doctor say. "Then Admiral Janeway will have regained all her memories of the past year."

So Chakotay sat and waited while Kathryn, now given a sedative, began breathing normally again, with only occasional twitching. He continued to caress the back of her hand, hoping she'd feel him touching her, feel his peace and reassurance and trust to bring her back to life again, whatever the tone of it was.

Finally, after almost an hour and a half, the first phase was complete. Chakotay's heart hammered as the EMH removed the stimulators. He administered another injection - a soft, short hiss from the hypospray.

Then Kathryn opened her eyes.

*************

Images, events, incidences, dark, black, some light, all tinged with a deep sadness that threatened to overwhelm her. They tumbled into her consciousness and confirmed a new platform of memories - old ones really, come to establish what had been lost.

She saw them all so clearly, so blindingly real in the immediate now that she felt a headache coming on. She gave a soft cry, hardly aware that a hand lifted her to a sitting position on the biobed. In the pit of her stomach, nausea rose the moment she sat up. She heaved once, then felt the hiss of a hypospray against her neck.

The sensation of wanting to throw up halted, and Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't look at the two men, one blessedly in the flesh, the other a hologram.

But even as their presence buoyed her, the images flashed with ceaseless regularity.

Of Majja, dancing a shameless dance, of aliens of all shapes, their sexual organs grotesque, burying into her, of Majja screaming her orgasmic cries into their air. Of Majja, oblivious of her nudity, taking on what Dorron called his "twin delights", of Majja taking on two men, different species, at the same time.

Then there were the quieter moments when Dorron allowed her to see her baby, little Andrew, almost afraid of her because she didn't see him often, of her little baby calling her "Mama".

They were of Linnea, a Krepekean like Dorron, used, abused until her body protested, until she could no more be useful to him or his clients, too old to be covered by five or six or seven men in an evening. Linnea who could do wonders with paint, with a rare talent never explored. Linnea who did her manicures, who was so good at cutting and styling her hair.

_"Linnea, you have great talent. You draw very well. Why have you stopped painting?"_

_"Dorron used threats. I was like you, Majja, good with painting and dancing. One day I strayed from the market place where I exhibited my work. A man came up to me…"_

_Linnea let her words sink in. Majja shuddered, knowing the truth, how she herself had been subjected to the same ignominy._

_"Did you ever try to escape?"_

_Linnea nodded. "Once, when Dorron left me alone with a client. I asked him to take me away. Do not know why I even asked. Client was a friend of Dorron. Dorron found out, injected me three times that night. I was unconscious for several days. After that, well, you know what happens when you try to escape the clutches of a man like Dorron."_

_"You don't dance anymore, or take on clients. Why is that?" Majja asked._

_Linnea blushed furiously, then straightened up, as if she summoned fortitude from deep inside her. They were women. Nothing was sacred between them, nothing secret. Linnea undressed before her and showed Majja the areas around her pubis - torn, destroyed, unrepairable._

_"I cannot function anymore," Linnea said. "I once had a lover. He is no more. Dorron has no sophisticated medicines to fix what his clients wrecked. I was often in great pain that Dorron refused to treat. I healed, Majja, but I am not healed, you understand?"_

_"I understand, Linnea."_

_"Don't let him waste you, Majja. He'll throw you away once he has finished with you."_

She remembered that conversation with Linnea, had seen her body, seen how she'd been ravaged and how Dorron had done very little to repair the damage.

Then there were other images, of Dorron making her do things she didn't want to, clearly remembering now how he'd simply jab a thick needle into her neck to erase anything she'd learned that could lead to him being arrested or something, or him freeing her or her remembering her real identity. She could see those incidents so clearly now. She had been his lover, but always, always he held the one thing over her which kept her bound to him.

Kathryn closed her eyes, uncaring of the tears that seeped from her closed lids, for one thing stood out of those memories returned to her.

One thing.

The day Dorron injected her with a triple dose of poison to erase her memory of a specific incident. She remembered the incident clearly and also remembered just why her little boy didn't know her as well as she always hoped, a mother's instinct that her child loved her, never reserved, always spontaneous.

Her eyes flew open. She looked at the EMH and at Chakotay in turn, her face suddenly flushed. Although she knew who they were, that was still all she knew about them. There was no hurry this time as she grasped Chakotay's hand. Soon she would have the full context of her former first officer and the EMH of the vessel Voyager. Yet one image stood out, one conversation. She heard the EMH speak, as if coming from a great distance.

"The first stage is complete, Kathryn," the EMH said. "We will resume in three days' time. You need to absorb what has been reintegrated into your memory. As you know, it only covered events of the past year.

"How do you feel?" Chakotay asked.

She glanced at Chakotay, then slid off the biobed while her hand was still in his.

"There is something I need to do, and I need to do it now, before it is too late - "

"You sound angry," Chakotay said.

"Kathryn, where are you going?" the EMH asked as she quickly disengaged her hand from Chakotay's and headed for the sick bay doors.

"Doctor, you can take yourself offline after you've completed the rest of the procedures," Chakotay barked. Then he rushed after Kathryn as she strode quickly down the corridor.

"Kathryn, wait! What is the matter?"

But Kathryn ignored his urgent plea. The door to the women's room swished open and before Chakotay could do anything, she headed straight for Wadra, who sat holding Andrew on her lap. Next to her Linnea, who was busy with a drawing, looked up distractedly, then gasped as she saw Kathryn's expression.

Kathryn lifted Andrew from Wadra's lap and cuddled him before handing her child to Chakotay, who appeared a little dumbfounded as he gazed first at Linnea then at Wadra. Andrew nuzzled his face in Chakotay's neck. The child was very active and threatened to pitch out of his arms.

Then Kathryn looked at Wadra with eyes that shot sparks of anger. Wadra shifted uncomfortably, as if she knew the time had come when she’d have to face Kathryn.

"You betrayed me, Wadra. Time and again in the last year, perhaps even before that. For the love of God, why?"

****************

She could see it clearly, the scene on Dorron's ship, in the communal room used by the women during their off days. Andrew, a little over a year old, toddled towards her. Wadra looked on indulgently. The Krepekean woman cared for her baby while she entertained Dorron's clients.

On her shoulder were still the puncture wounds of past injections Dorron administered. There were days she could still feel the pain of those wounds. No advanced medicine to take away the pain in an instant.

"Do you think about what your life was like when you lived on Krepek?" Majja asked the old woman.

Wadra's eyes narrowed, her answer coming only after a heavy pause. Perhaps, Majja thought, Wadra also needed to dig into her subconscious for memories that remained tenaciously hidden.

"I never think about it - "

"But you are Krepekean, like Dorron. Do you not miss your homeworld?"

"Sometimes, if I can remember."

"When do you remember?" Majja asked, a frown marring her features. "Does it happen at odd times? As if  something can trigger a memory very suddenly?"

"Never," Wadra muttered under her breath, irritated by Majja's persistent questions. "Dorron doesn't plunge the injector into me - "

Wadra slapped her hand over her mouth, clearly having revealed too much.

"What? He's never had to repress your memories?"

Majja gaped, a little dumbfounded when she realised that Wadra was possibly too old, or worse, that she was an accomplice, especially an accomplice, judging by how guilty she looked.

"Do not bother yourself about me," Wadra replied, compressing her thin lips. Majja knew she couldn't ask any more questions, for Wadra could be obdurate, but the revealing moment couldn't be retracted.

Right then Andrew started crying, affected by Kathryn's sudden change in mood. Majja became a little distressed, the fog resting on her brain like a weight bearing down on her. It pressed until she felt a stabbing pain lancing from the top of her head down to the base of her skull. She gave a cry of pain, yet remained on her feet, willing the agony to dissipate.

Then suddenly, as she comforted her child, a curtain opened, drawn wide as if to let bright sunshine in, blinding, bright light that swamped her entire being. She had no idea that Andrew was taken from her by one of the women. And yet, she was not outside in the sun on a planet enjoying shore leave with sunny skies.

The light merely introduced a scene that shimmered into view, so familiar and yet so strange all of a sudden. Clear as if she had never seen images and recollections of events before. It had nothing to do with Dorron, with the Vodar, but she was on a ship.

Could it be possible? A ready room on a starship, her ship, USS Voyager, registry number 74656, launch date stardate  48038.5. Even as she stood in front of Wadra, she saw the details of her vessel, memorised them with searing accuracy. She stood behind her desk, Chakotay in front of it. They were squaring off, one of their innumerable spats in which he was once again going to remind her she had a moral centre, that going after Ransom was foolhardy, crossing the line.

She remembered it so well…

_Chakotay stood hands on his hips. "I don't blame you for being angry," he said, "but you can't compromise the safety of this ship to satisfy some personal vendetta."_

_And very, very deep inside her she knew that there was a right and there was a wrong. She had always found it so damned hard to admit that Chakotay was right. They had to preserve the safety of their crew as their first objective. But his truth was difficult to swallow, so she clung resolutely to her own decisions._

_"I appreciate your candour," she told him softly, glaring at him. He made her so angry! "Now let me be just as blunt."_

_Chakotay looked at her, just as resolute in his stance. She bit her lip, tried to stem her anger, allowing it to simmer, to cool where she could think clearly, lucidly, play on his position as a subordinate._

_"You're right, I am angry," she started. "I'm damned angry. He's a Starfleet Captain, Chakotay! He's decided to abandon everything this uniform stands for. He's out there right now, torturing and murdering innocent life-forms, just to get home a little quicker. I'm not going to stand for it!"_

_Then she walked round her desk, moved into his personal space, hissed once or twice. He was so much taller, but she had to press home her advantage of being Voyager's captain._

_"I'm going to hunt him down no matter how long it takes, no matter what the cost. If you want to call that a vendetta, go right ahead."_

_She watched as he turned on his heel and exited her ready room._

Other scenes tumbled into her consciousness, of remembering every tiny bit of information, every image. She laughed, a giddy laugh as she looked at Wadra and the other women.

"I am remembering, Nia! Wadra! It is all coming back! I know my name! I know my name!" she repeated. Then she scooped her baby in her arms, her eyes filling with tears. "I even know my baby's father!"

How did she not notice that Wadra had left the room hurriedly and returned with Dorron who had a furious expression on his face? She shrank back from him, wanted to escape as far away as she could get. But Dorron carried the injector.

Distressed, she glanced at Wadra who smiled a cunning smile  then took Andrew from her and handed the child to Nia.

Dorron who stepped closer to Majja. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back. A needle glinted in the light.

"No, not that, please," she pleaded. "I want to remember, please. My name is Ka - "

The next moment Dorron plunged the needle into her neck. Even before her eyes began to glaze, she felt a second needle, and knew with sinking certainty that two double strength poisons had just been injected into her body.

Kathryn remembered that scene and remembered the scene in Voyager's ready room. Now she looked at Wadra who shifted uncomfortably on the seat.

"Kathryn…" Chakotay's voice sounded like a caution, or was it concern for her?

Kathryn focused her gaze on Wadra. The woman looked guilty. Every time, Kathryn realised, when she seemed to remember something, as if an aperture to her consciousness opened wide and she could see her life on a giant tapestry, Wadra was there and seconds later, Dorron with his injector. It was not her imagination, surely. She had been injected enough, poisoned enough, deceived into thinking he would let her go, or those terrifying occurrences when she believed she could escape.

Wadra was there.

"Why did you betray me?" Kathryn repeated her question before she felt herself losing consciousness.

************

END CHAPTER 9


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after months of writing this story, I have now completed it. Chapter 10 continues the saga of Kathryn and Chakotay. Chapter 9 ended with Kathryn asking why Wadra betrayed her. 
> 
> I want to thank all my readers who have been so absolutely patient in waiting for the story to be done. Now, a chapter every day as it arrives from my beta and corrections done. Well, I do hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

He wished for a great mountain he could climb, to scale its height, to feel the burn in his chest that would score his lungs in unrelenting agony. Then to feel the urge to capitulate to the immensity of his mission, to turn back and walk down, but right at that moment when the desire sprang into his conscious thought, sheer Resolve would overpower Surrender and propel him further in his quest to reach the impossible.

Perhaps all these years he had been climbing that mountain. There had been so many times he'd felt like walking down and starting over. At other times, he kept doggedly on, heart pounding, tired legs that refused to give up, one in front of the other, slipping over streams, wet rocks, with branches of saplings that hit his face, deep scratches on his arms, his face, but always alert to finding her.

He'd held on to this quest like the gods of ancient legends and finally he had found her.

Beaten, sick, his dancer who, in a blinding second, revealed herself to him, his dancer whose heart cried out that he deliver her from her shackles of shamelessness.

Betrayed.

In the women's room, a scene played out that Chakotay would remember to his dying day. Kathryn facing Wadra, the old Krepekian woman who cared for little Andrew, who had been present at Andrew's birth. He'd noticed the moment Kathryn entered the room and looked at Wadra, how the woman shifted uncomfortably, like one who had committed a crime and who'd only be found out at the very end, after living in dread of being discovered.

That was the look on Wadra's face. She was scared, her arms gone slack, allowing Andrew to be taken from her. Sitting there, she had waited for the final accusation, one that would prove beyond all doubt, Wadra's guilt, Wadra's complicity

Betrayal struck at the heart of those who fell into a web of deceit. It struck especially hardest on those in whom a sense of complete trust had been fostered, in whom there remained a sense of innocence, of being entirely oblivious of the manner in which the betrayed had become a victim. And so the victim, her trust broken, would still ask the question "why?" simply because she couldn't in all her life find it possible that someone so close could do such a thing to her.

Kathryn Janeway, abducted, pregnant, suffering limited memory loss, taken away and deceived from the moment she'd fallen into the hands of men who had no moral centre, no ethics, had become the object of men equally lacking in decency. Had they not any inkling that the woman who danced for them, who would, given additional incentive, have sex with them, was a person, taken from her home, someone's mother, daughter, wife?

Chakotay had known that Kathryn was innocent from the outset, that nothing that had happened to her was of her own engineering, that she'd been used to further other's interests, other's wealth.

A woman poisoned whenever she came close to regaining her memory, to the point that her own child became a stranger to her.

He had looked at Kathryn, witnessed the expression on her face.

On Voyager he had seen her countless times either angry, regretful, sad, obstinate, humorous, disappointed in him or Tuvok or Tom, sometimes close to tears. Then there were times he had seen her weep over the death of a crewman, had seen her brooding in her quarters, fretting over decisions that were not always in the interest of the crew. How long had he sat with her one night, her face blank, a mask that covered her storms, so that no one could see how the 'death' of Tuvix affected her? No matter that two beloved crew were returned to Voyager to fulfil their functions on the ship? All that night he'd sat with her, softly talking, urging her not to blame herself.

Not even the fury of seeing Ransom kill life forms to plot their course home could compare to the total devastation on Kathryn's face at the way Wadra had betrayed her. How different her path would have been! And that remained the crux of the desolation he'd seen on Kathryn's face.

She strode from sick bay, a purposeful air in the way she walked. Both he and the EMH would have wanted to hear her say things like, "I remember this", or, "I recollect that", or "I knew the image I had of…", that kind of thing, even, God help him, "I remember you". That was what they'd expected to hear. That would have made their hearts soar with the success of the treatment. Kathryn's reaction all but shattered that myth, that expectation that the accomplishment was theirs, to be logged and later reviewed and shown to their superiors as a triumph they claimed in the name of science.

Chakotay had followed her out of sick bay and only saw her face when she stopped in front of Wadra. Did a storm awaken in her mind, a vortex that carried with it every memory of the past year during the fateful seconds after waking up on the biobed and facing Wadra?

All he knew, all he saw was the very foundations ripped from Kathryn. A look on her face he'd never ever seen before. The old Kathryn, proactive, together, composed, sophisticated and sometimes aloof, rarely wracked by self-doubt, the captain whose poker face deceived many an adversary in the Delta Quadrant, that woman was gone. It wasn't there when she'd been Majja, a slave, yet he'd seen some of the old Kathryn in moments she'd been unaware of. But Kathryn Janeway stood before Wadra, and to him was a stranger.

Her eyes shattered. He'd wondered then what memory regained could have brought on such a devastation? What tragedy lurked inside an image or event or even a cascade of recollections that could have produced such a look?

It was the desolation following her question that caused her second collapse in days.

That was yesterday.

He'd scooped her in his arms and walked the short distance to the sick bay and activated the EMH.

"She needs a sedative. Keep her here until I return, Doc. A woman whom she trusted betrayed her. That much I can tell you now. It was too much for her. I've arranged that Linnea take care of Andrew."

"I'll do that," the EMH responded, "though I must tell you I cannot keep her sedated for longer than is necessary for her constitution."

"Don't worry. I'll be back. There's something I have to deal with first."

Then he left, went back to the women's room and asked Linnea to take Andrew to Kathryn's cabin and remain there.

*********

Chakotay bristled with anger as he faced Wadra. She was an old woman yet for an instant he wanted to murder her.

Rushing forward, he lifted Wadra by her neck, pushing her body up against the bulkhead so that her feet dangled, fighting for a foothold. He enjoyed her squirming under his fingers squeezing ever tighter. There was no doubt he was going to kill her. He'd killed men before just like this, twisting the unfortunate victim's neck, dropping the dead body, never feeling any guilt. Wadra's eyes bulged, she choked, her hands flailing in her attempt to prise his throttling fingers from her neck. Her nose ridges turned dark blue, her lips pulled away from her teeth.

Wadra tried to scream but any sound she made stuck in her throat as her face started swelling. He held her there, allowed his fury to explode as he throttled the life out of her. No words were necessary for the rage he felt; he simply wanted to kill.

And he enjoyed the fear in her eyes, a thrill that excited him even more, made him squeeze harder, his nails digging into the back of her neck. Old or not, Wadra had hurt his Kathryn; woman or not, she had dealt his Kathryn a crushing blow for which Chakotay could not ever forgive her. He didn't know in that moment exactly what Wadra had done to Kathryn, but two things stood out while he lifted the Krepekian's body practically off the floor: she had betrayed Kathryn and Kathryn sensed her child was not safe with Wadra.

And from somewhere the curtain lifted as he assembled every image of Wadra with the child - the way she held Andrew, the closeness that now, with hindsight sickeningly excluded the child's mother. He realized now that the child clung to her and not to Kathryn.

"You bitch!" he bit out the words eventually. "Die! Die!" he yelled as he thumped her head against the bulkhead.

Then, shaking his head, Chakotay suddenly regained his composure, banning all that he imagined he'd do to Wadra, images he'd allowed to play out in his mind.

As much as he would have liked to kill her, he refrained from it. Just picturing Kathryn's extreme distress made him angry all over again. Wadra sat there, her eyes filled with fear as Chakotay approached her

"You are going to answer Kathryn's question for me," he hissed angrily, already regretting that he hadn’t slashed her throat instantly.

When Wadra hesitated, he barked, "Now!"

"Dorron is the son of my brother. My brother and my husband died during the purge on Krepek. Dorron took me in, treated me like his mother."

"He engineered a sex trafficking ring to which you, Wadra, were an accomplice, just as guilty!"

Wadra's brow knitted, a strange movement, Chakotay realised because of the way her ridges turned blue. Her eyes were downcast, as if she were too ashamed to gaze directly at him. Could they even weep? Show tears?

"Guilty, you hear me?"

"You do not understand. When I said he treated me like his mother, I did not mean he treated me well. Dorron's mother was a dancer, like Kathryn, like Zaaria and Piah and Linnea, but she sold her services. He grew up in the same circumstances as young Andrew - "

Chakotay turned cold at Wadra's words. Did Dorron force her to compliance? Hold the victim down while she was being abused? Wadra appeared innocent, yet something didn't quite add up.

"What did he make you do, if you didn't do so willingly?"

"Please, sir…" Wadra began, suddenly becoming formal. "It weighs heavy on me - 

"What have you done to her? What? Tell me!"

Wadra rocked back at the force of Chakotay's enraged outburst, reacting as if he indeed throttled the life out of her.

"Dorron had no morals!" Wadra burst out. "He forced me to comply. I - I observed the women. When they appeared to regain their memory, I had to inform him so that he could inject them with the serum to erase anything they had learned. He didn't want any of them to remember their life, to keep them in his service with no resistance from them."

"Did he ever inject you?"

Silence.

"Answer me!"

"No. He - he did something else…"

Chakotay felt a sudden chill run down his spine, his mind preparing itself for a revelation he already sensed.

"I am related to Dorron by blood," she began slowly, the words tearing from her. "He had no conscience, no morality when - "

There was a long pause.

"Continue," Chakotay urged, less angry now that he knew what Wadra was going to reveal. He wanted to hear it from her.

"He took me. I am not young, you must understand. Dorron mated with me, then ordered me to keep quiet. I bear many scars on my body. His mating was primitive, without apology, with no regard for my standing or my relation to him."

"That was what he'd do if you didn't comply."

"Always. I had no choice."

"You told me you were present at Andrew's birth.

"Yes. Dorron came to me on Krepek with this woman who looked nothing like us. He told me she was with child. He called her Majja. He said she didn't know who she was, that she had lost her memory. I know that he had already injected her with his serum. I told him to return her to her people."

"You said that? Let me guess. He raped you to keep you in line."

"Yes. In front of Majja. She was frightened, disoriented, had no idea who or where she was. He told me to take care of Majja until she gave birth."

"What happened then? To Majja and the baby?"

"Majja - Kathryn was lucid in the moments she gave birth. Clear as the blue sky over Krepek. When the baby was born, she called him Andrew. She told me it was her father's second name.

"And?"  

"Then she cried out another name. Yours, sir. I always wondered about the name until - until we met you. But then Dorron came with his injectors and poisons to erase Kathryn's memory. She was never the same after that, only recognising her baby. Not long after the baby was born, Dorron raped Majja, injected her constantly, erased her memory time and again. Sometimes he ordered me to hold her still. She remained in his bed until he told her to dance for sex and take on clients. Every time it seemed Kathryn and the other women remembered something, I had to tell Dorron."

Chakotay nodded. Wadra was crying freely now, a soft kind of sobbing. Krepekians did weep

"So that is why Kathryn accused you of betraying her."

"Yes."

"She remembers everything of the last year of her life, Wadra. I'm going to ask you to fill me in on those instances when she had clarity, before Dorron erased her memory again. Right now, her life is a puzzle with all the pieces askew. Kathryn will no doubt tell me her story. Does she know what Dorron had done to you?"

Wadra shook her head. "No, she doesn't. Perhaps she suspected. I do not know. I am sorry. I love little Andrew. Please, let me love him…"

"That is for Kathryn to decide. She needs to bond with her son now and needs to spend all her time with him. I am contacting Isner to be ready to take you on board his ship. Do not blame her for feeling that way."

"I understand."

****

"How are you feeling?" Chakotay asked when Kathryn had returned to her quarters.

"Better," Kathryn responded. She still had a haunted look about her. No doubt her life as a dancer for clients weighed heavily on her. Deep inside she knew it was wrong, not the life she was meant to live. So he nodded. Then she scooped Andrew to her.

"It's his bath time," she said, by way of explanation.

"You go ahead. I'll replicate dinner for us."

"You really have all the modern conveniences on your ship," she said with a smile as she walked towards her bathroom.

Later they enjoyed a light supper in the dining alcove. Andrew was playing in his sleeping area. Chakotay had replicated some puzzles and a colouring book and crayons. He seemed happy, and would approach his mother from time to time to show her his drawing. His speech was improving fast now that Kathryn conversed with him all the time.

He didn't seem to miss Wadra, now that Linnea was taking care of him when Kathryn co-piloted. Wadra's story was a sad one, but Kathryn had suffered greatly. She'd confronted Wadra the instant she realised what the Krepekian woman had been up to.

Kathryn had been wakened only an hour ago by the EMH and Chakotay had rushed to sick bay to see her. She had been quiet, not saying a word when he accompanied her to her quarters. She'd scooped Andrew in her arms and couldn't let go of him. They'd lain on her bed with Andrew spooned to her. Chakotay smiled when he'd heard the child murmur something that sounded a lot like "love Mama."

He'd left the room with Linnea following him out. She'd joined Wadra while he headed for the bridge. He'd told Linnea to keep an eye on Wadra, that he'd be in contact with Isner soon

Now Kathryn sat quietly eating her dinner. He'd replicated a bottle of wine as well.

"I like this," she said after she took a gentle sip and rolled the liquid on her tongue.

"Your favourite. We had weekly dinners together in your quarters."

"I can remember that," she said. "Thank you, Chakotay."

"You were in pain, Kathryn."

"It's part of my rehabilitation. I must accept it."

"Now you sound like the Kathryn I know!" he said, smiling

"I recollect very clearly one scene on Voyager."

"You're going to sit there and let me stew?"

Kathryn gave a little chuckle. "Me going after Ransom, you reading me the riot act. Ransom saying _'_ In _the event of imminent destruction a captain is authorised to preserve the lives of his crew by any justifiable means.'"_

Chakotay sighed. "It was not our finest hour."

"I know, but I had you as my moral compass. I sensed that during the entire session of my reintegration.

"You did?"

"Even though I don't have all my memories yet, I know you were a great part of it, sustaining me…" Her voice trailed away.

They finished their meal in silence. Then…

"Tell me about my family, Chakotay."

He sat back, watching her closely.

"Your mother is Gretchen Janeway. She married Admiral Ponsonby. When your memory is fully restored you will know," he said, a smile on his face. "You have a sister Phoebe who married James Grayson, an engineer at Utopia Planitia - "

"A mother, a sister, a stepfather, I presume?" she asked.

"Stepfather, yes. Your own father died years ago."

"Did I watch him die?"

That made him sit up, and glance sharply at her.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Your father and your then fiancé, Justin Tighe."

"Did you always know me, Chakotay?"

Another question out of the blue, father and fiancé forgotten for the moment. Her mother and Adam Ponsonby forgotten. How long had he known Kathryn Janeway? Ten years? A little more than that? How long had he felt that she ripped his insides out just by looking at him? How long had he become used to the feeling of loving without being loved, a passion that never flared above the low simmer of old glowing coals, his unrelenting attempts to keep those embers glowing? There had not been a single moment in time that he didn't think of her. Somewhere he read or heard that waiting was akin to hoping, that the end of waiting or hoping would be to rise up, like an eagle, that a person be rejuvenated or renewed, that hope then would be rewarded. Who told him that once? Ensign Kaplan?

But he hoped that one day he would see the same fire in Kathryn's eyes, the same want and it would be for him. He had succumbed to her request for one night of intimacy and it had left him drained, lost, knowing that he had thrown all of it away. From the moment he'd asked her "How do you know my name?", Kathryn had known him and he had known that he would follow her to the ends of the Earth, that he would die for her, that he would be by her side forever.

Chakotay swallowed a soft sob as he reflected on Kathryn's question.

"Chakotay?"

"Not always," he said, sighing. "I only met you when our vessels were stranded in the Delta Quadrant. We joined our crews because we both lost key personnel. It took us seven years to reach Earth… I've known you those seven years."

"And the - the years since? When I was with Dorron?"

"I spent searching for you. I report to your stepfather and Admiral Paris. They know you are alive and well now, Kathryn."

"They sent you to come looking for me?"

Tears sprung in her eyes right then. He knew she was thinking about Wadra's betrayal, that things could have turned out so differently. But they had happened and could never be reversed. Kathryn had to live with that.

"I find it hard to forgive Wadra, you must understand, Chakotay. I know there's a story there, and perhaps in time I can let go of the disappointment and forgive her. But right now? It hurts like hell. There must have been many occasions that I remembered things only to have it taken away by force."

"I have contacted Isner. It is up to you, Kathryn, if you want her to stay on board. She really does love Andrew and her story is a tragedy as well. Let me know, okay?"

Kathryn nodded. She glanced back to where Andrew was still happily occupying himself.

"He loves bedtime stories," she said pensively. "Some of those I wrote from, well, I don't know where I got them, except it must have been in my subconscious. But it was cumbersome, designing the graphemes of the English alphabet and then creating little stories."

"You've done well. Language remained your one constant. It took great courage, Kathryn. You have no idea just how much.

"It was my only link, what kept me hoping, I suppose."  Kathryn turned to gaze where her son was playing. "When I was with him, I read him stories or told him little tales." She became pensive for a few seconds before she turned to look at Chakotay again. 

"He really likes you, Chakotay. Strange, isn't it? He is really quiet and attentive when you tell him stories…"

What could he say to her? _He's my son, why shouldn't he like it when I tell him the ancient legends of my people?"_

"There was something else I remembered," Kathryn continued. "From when Andrew was born. I always wondered about my baby, you know? I never knew his father. Dorron always told me a different story each time, always that some alien who looked like us fathered him."

Kathryn paused. Chakotay's heart hammered. He drew in his breath sharply, wondering if he was actually ready to hear her words.

"I also wondered if I was married, or something.  It was always kept from me. I have no idea who fathered Andrew, how I got to Dorron and what he did to me after Andrew was born."

"Wadra told me some of it, about those first minutes after you gave birth."

"I was very lucid for several minutes. I remembered things like my name, my mother, my sister, you…"

"Me?"

"Andrew is my father's middle name. When my baby slipped out of my belly, I was lying on a floor on top of old blankets. The room was musty, with only Wadra there. And Dorron. He came later."

Kathryn paused again, a faraway look in her eyes.

"But?"

"There was an image, a face. Yours. Your hair cropped short, your tattoo, your red uniform, a room - yours perhaps and a bed… It was so familiar I cried your name, Chakotay. I remembered your name, remembered something else too, only it's gone in the thick mists of my forgotten memory."

"So after Dorron injected you, those memories were erased."

"Yes. Now, when I look at my son, and I look at you, I wonder. I wonder so much, Chakotay, especially because I now remembered that scene of the two of us…"

And Chakotay felt like weeping for the aching sorrow in Kathryn's eyes. How could he not deliver her from those terrible doubts?

"What if I told you a truth you might not be ready for?"

"I have regained some of my memory. I know Wadra betrayed me, I know that I was in a life that was surely not of my doing. Why would I not be ready?"

"That room, that bed you pictured, was real. It was my quarters on Voyager. You were with me, the only time in our seven year journey that we were intimate."

Kathryn paled visibly. She touched her forehead, dizziness threatening to overcome her as she swayed. Chakotay jumped up from his chair and quickly steadied her.

"Hey…steady now…"

"You are Andrew's father," Kathryn said, her voice filled with awe. "He looks so like you!"

"When I saw him, I suspected," Chakotay said, his voice hoarse with remembered passion. "The EMH confirmed it. I felt an immediate pull to Andrew - "

"He only has my eyes. The rest is all you - dimples, hair, his tan. Oh, Chakotay! Did I love you once? I must have!"

"You will know once you have fully regained your memory."

"Will you love me then, Chakotay? Will you?"

**************

END CHAPTER 10


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 Wadra's face looked ravaged from the storm of telling her story to Kathryn. Her tears had run down her ragged face unchecked. Her hands were clasped together, yet her fingers trembled. The words tumbled from her like an avalanche rushing downhill, taking everything in its path.

It was all there, from the moment Kathryn had woken from her unconscious state and seen Wadra for the first time, concerned, caring, experienced in nursing and tending to babies. There was nothing Kathryn could do, nothing she could have done except trust Wadra.

"Why did you not tell us the truth then, Wadra?" Kathryn asked. The old woman was sitting in the ness hall of the ship, her back straight. Her initial fear had given way to apprehension she needed to tell Kathryn everything.

"Dorron threatened me over and over, Kathryn. He called me names, no better than his mother who was a sex worker. Then he - "

"What, Wadra?"

"Assaulted me sexually. Every time I tried to fight back, to help you and the others, he - " Wadra paused, then gathered courage again. "He raped me, made me his chattel. I had nowhere else to go after my husband died. Dorron had no morals. I was his slave as much as you were. Though I cannot make any excuses for the part I played in your degradation and that of the other women."

Wadra's admission came as a shock to Kathryn, though it didn't surprise her. She had known there was a bond between Wadra and Dorron, but one as unhealthy as the older woman described tore at her heart strings. But Kathryn's shock at waking up after the EMH had completed his procedure was just too great.

"You cannot know how it has hurt me, Wadra, your betrayal. I have lost three years of my life. None of this need ever have happened to me. I was Majja to you and the despicable work I was made to do, but I am Kathryn Janeway. I have a mother and a sister and a stepfather. Who knows, I must have had a husband. I have not been reintegrated fully, so I don't really know. But I can tell you this: it is very hard to forgive what you have done. Very hard."

"I am sorry, Kathryn. Sorry that I have hurt you."

"Chakotay has left it to me to decide whether you continue your journey with us. Even when my situation was at its worst, Wadra, at least you were there and I have liked you. You have been good with my son, but I can see how you too have kept Andrew from being more at ease with me." 

Kathryn paused, a little out of breath. Her heart still ached from the abuse she had suffered, and from the knowledge that Wadra had been an accomplice, although she too was a victim. Wadra was tired, her eyes filled with shame. Dorron hadn’t spared his own kin, an aunt who must have been around to help raise him a child who grew up twisted beyond measure.

Her heart overflowing with compassion, Kathryn reached forward to touch Wadra's hand.

"You have the opportunity to redeem yourself. We are only four adults on this ship. Chakotay needs me to help him pilot the ship, to use my scientific experience to improve the ship’s performance and efficiency. I need you to help take care of my son - "

Wadra rose to her feet and hugged Kathryn, a movement as sudden as it was strange. Kathryn, surprised, returned the embrace.

"Thank you, thank you! Also - "

"Also, what?" Kathryn asked, her eyes filling with a sheen of tears.

"About Chakotay. The likeness between him and Andrew is too great to be a coincidence. When you gave birth, Chakotay was the only other name you cried out after Andrew. He is Andrew's father, is he not?"

Kathryn smiled for the first  time. Forgiveness, she decided, was not going to be such an impossible thing. It would take time, but she felt already halfway there.

Because of Chakotay.

It was that simple.

*****

Linnea Limos entered the sick bay with a feeling of dread. The doctor had examined and treated her and Wadra on the first day, then declared them fit after he'd administered medication to eliminate the drugs in her system.

Dorron had had no use for her after her injuries, which had healed leaving her with multiple scarring in her genitalia. In a bizarre fashion she had been glad of the mutilation because she didn't have to service men anymore. How Majja whom she now knew as Kathryn had remained undamaged was a source of wonder to her. Although they all sensed that Majja was special, Dorron took greater care  keeping her uninjured.

She had no idea what the doctor wanted with her. She believed their primitive medical knowledge made healing impossible. He had looked at her with a frown on the first day, made an unintelligible sound as he studied the readouts on his computer, then told her she was fine, she could go. Linnea had looked at the other women in the sickbay who had waited in turn then glanced again at the doctor who cleared his throat and said, "You may go now."

Linnea had grown up on Krepek, a Krepekian like Dorron and Wadra until the purge killed off most of the men in the planet's northern hemisphere. Her life had been safe, uncluttered. She'd attended school, was very artistic according  to her teachers. She loved to create, whether it was to paint, to style someone's hair, to sculpt, to design clothing, to nurse someone to health. She had been well established in the first city of the northern continents. She had friends, a gentle lover, a mother whom she loved and had enjoyed the freedom of being alive.

Until the purge, when her lover had died.

Until she was abducted while on a sojourn to Krepek's first moon.

Then her life changed forever. For five years, she had been Dorron's slave, injected with pheromones, reduced to dancing for clients, being mauled, raped, made to contort and perform vulgar acts of sex with them. She had no memories of the life she used to lead on Krepek. Later Dorron told her that all her family had died, everyone she knew in the First City was gone and that she was best off with him,  travelling from star system to star system and space stations.

Then came Majja, unutterably beautiful, pregnant and instantly Dorron's favourite. Linnea knew the life Majja was to lead, had witnessed time and again the injections, the tirades, the tears, the screams followed by the dull look in Majja's eyes after he'd erased her memories. She knew better than all the girls under Dorron and other slave masters what lay ahead for Majja.

Wadra took care of the baby and almost immediately Majja became Dorron's slave, to be taken by him at will, made to dance for clients, the sex, the orgies - all too well known to Linnea. Later when Linnea's injuries began to multiply and Dorron had been too lazy and uncaring to do anything about them he began to ignore her as a dancer. She was glad in a way, but extremely concerned about the other women, especially Majja with her little boy.

So she begged Dorron to let her be of service to the women, to paint their bodies, to offer solace when they wept afterwards, and in a small way make life a little more bearable for them all.

Now the Doctor summoned her to sick bay, but she was unable to figure quite why because she was not sick. He had already studied her race's DNA and Krepekian genome, "So that I have a reference for any future illness or injuries, you understand?"

The doors opened once she pressed the panel. She was surprised to see the Doctor already there. She'd learned quickly that he was not flesh and blood in the conventional sense, but a holographic interface. His tone was sometimes brusque, yet she felt safe with him.

"You can deactivate yourself, I was told," she said, somewhat diffidently.

"That I can. I have scheduled your visit for 1400 and here I am. Now, sit on the biobed, will you?"

She did as the EMH requested. The movement was smooth because she was tall, almost as tall as Captain Chakotay. Then she waited, watching the EMH closely.

"I am not sick," she said.

"No, but I wish to discuss something with you. When I examined you the other day, I found scarring on your lower body."

Linnea paled, the ridges on her nose and forehead taking on a pale, sickly hue. Her heart hammered. What should she tell him? How much should she reveal? Embarrassed, she could only nod.

"I can heal you," the Doctor said.

Linnea looked up sharply, her grey-green eyes suddenly filling with tears.

"I always thought I could never be healed, never function, that no man would want me," she said tearfully.

"Do not worry, Linnea. When Captain Chakotay downloaded all the files and logs from the Vodar, I could study Krepekian physiology. Please lie down…"

Linnea lay down on the bed, looking with trusting eyes at the doctor.

"Do not be alarmed. I will sedate you because I need you to be completely motionless. When you wake up, everything will be fine."

"Thank you, Doctor."

The EMH graced her with a smile, then gently applied the hypospray.

*************

Two days later, Chakotay was playing with Andrew in the holodeck. The little boy loved the Flotter and Treevis programme, but Chakotay had introduced other programmes as well, such as a small pool of water in which Andrew could splash.

Chakotay experienced again the fierce burn when he thought about how Andrew had been told about his father. They'd sat on Kathryn's bed. The ship was on autopilot again, something Chakotay wanted to do less often now that Kathryn was also piloting. Andrew was bouncing up and down on the bed, already reciting his "monkeys jumping on the bed."

"Andrew, do you know who this is?" Kathryn had asked the child as he finally sat down, out of breath from all the jumping. Andrew shook his head, then said, "'kotay".

"Whom am I?" Kathryn asked.

"Mommy."

"Andrew, honey, 'Kotay is your papa."

"My papa," the boy said, first glancing at Chakotay, then at his mother.

"Yes, 'Kotay is your daddy - "

"Papa!"

"Yes, that too," Kathryn said, chuckling as Andrew glared at her in what Chakotay thought was childish indignation.

Andrew launched himself into Chakotay's arms. He'd held his son close, so close, unable to speak for the emotion that overwhelmed him. Andrew had been raised among women who were his only reference to a relationship that had to include mother, father, child. Dorron was Dorron, a sick male figure with only one agenda - to objectify women.

Andrew, Chakotay felt, needed him, to be a vital male father figure, to counteract the negative influence of Dorron's evil practice. How could a child not sense his mother was more out of his life than in it? Kathryn had been allowed to see Andrew only once a week and for such short spells. What impact could Kathryn and the other women have had?

But Kathryn had been resourceful and their son a very, very quick learner. She'd created little stories which she could read to him whenever she did see him. Chakotay shook his head. Kathryn and most of the girls never got much time to rest but she'd made very good use of the time she did have with her son. Their son.

He thought of her question, whether she loved him, on Voyager, or those precious few months they were home on Earth, or their fateful night together.

If she loved him, she had never expressed those feelings, command and duty always first in her life. But Kathryn must have loved him, for she would not have given herself so lightly to him that night. There had been many endearments, but he was certain "I love you" had not been one of them. He'd loved her then, and yes, he still loved her with all his heart.

"Papa!"

He was shaken from his reverie to see Andrew standing right in front of him.

""Yes, what is it, son?" he asked, still surprised at the boy's striking features so like his own.

"Can Wadra play with me?"

Andrew's eyes were earnest, his question straightforward. He'd been taken from the Krepekian woman in great haste when Kathryn had regained the memories of the last year. Whatever their feelings towards the old woman, Andrew's were clear, without prejudice. She was to him the woman who cared for him when Mommy was working, who fed him, bathed him, even told him stories.

Chakotay had left it to Kathryn to decide whether to let Wadra accompany them to Earth. Kathryn had had her conversation with Wadra earlier. Dear, loving, compassionate Kathryn who recognised that Wadra too, had been a victim.

"Can she?"

"Yes, son. Wadra can play with you. She can come with us. But remember, you have your own grandma and grandpa, okay?"

"What's grandma?"

"Your Mommy's own mommy. Don't worry, son. Once were are back on Earth, you will know and understand. They are waiting for you."

"Okay, Papa!"

Andrew threw himself in Chakotay's arms, hugging him with an unexpected fierceness. Chakotay smiled, a little sad that it took so little to make a child happy. Just to be with people he loved.

"Come," he said at length, "Wadra is going to take care of you, because Mommy is flying this ship and Linnea is studying exobiology and biogenetics. But she's an artist, if you ask me."

"Okay!"

*************************

"Who is Chakotay, Majja?" Linnea asked when they were sitting together in the small mess hall. Chakotay was back on the bridge and Andrew was happy to be with Wadra.

"Please, my name is Kathryn - "

"How do you know? He could have told you anything!"

"Because I trust him. I have trusted him from that first night when I saw him in the Glitter Pit."

"Did he always know you? He seems to like you. I cannot help thinking he was a part of your past, your lost memories."

"That is what he tells me. I remember things about him, about being on a vessel much bigger than this one. I was his commander…"

"He was serving under you? You were a - a captain of a ship once?"

"Yes. We wore red uniforms. Now, what about you?"

"I have regained most of my memories. The doctor has also treated my wounds, my scars. I always thought I could never be healed, never be with a man again in - in that way. I will never have a partner."

"I'm very happy for you! Our medical technology is quite advanced. Dorron was always careless as you know."

"Yes," Linnea said, sighing. "That part of our lives is over. Do you think about it, Kathryn?"

Kathryn paused the forkful of pecan pie in mid-air, then dropped it back on the plate. Her expression became distant, glazed. She thought of those times, images flashing before her, engaging in sex acts, the enhanced pheromones making her scream in climaxing, of Dorron callously injecting her, of clients not very choosy about the manner of their sex acts, of her exhaustion, of more injections to make her take on more clients the rest of the evening, sometimes through the night if Dorron was busy mating with one of the other girls. She thought of her desire to be free, to have someone come to deliver her from her servitude, of always thinking how it never, ever pleased her.

"Those memories will stay with me, Linnea," she murmured in a strained voice. "I have to thrust those thoughts from me, try not to think about it. It is hard, it will never be easy to forget."

"Chakotay? Did you love him?"

Kathryn pondered on the question.

"I'm not sure, Linnea," she said with honesty. "When I picture those scenes on the vessel Voyager, it is just factual, you know, without evoking any emotion. I just see those scenes, never a feeling that accompanies his facial expression or his words. I remember what we said, that is all."

Linnea nodded, clicking sympathetically. "I always imagined I would know, that an image would make my heart swell with longing, or joy, or passion, or love. I loved once and although my lover is now dead, I picture him with all the feelings that were there when he was alive. Perhaps there was something between you, Kathryn."

Linnea took a bite of the pecan pie they were enjoying, then placed her fork down, staring expectantly at Kathryn.

"Perhaps. Once I recovere all my memories, I will know."

"Do you know what? I think you loved him before and I think you love him now. That man stormed into Dorron's 'cave' and killed him without blinking, all for you! You told me he was sent to find you! And he did. I saw how he held you before Isner took me and the others to the ship. He held you like he would not ever let you out of his sight. That tells me he loves you and you, Kathryn, you love him."

"I might have been married, Linnea, and Chakotay, he might have his own life. I don't know."

"Even with those things, it doesn't fool me. He looks at you and you look at him…" Linnea shook her head slowly, in disbelief.

"Maybe. I feel something now. Would it be easy to love him? I don't know…"

Kathryn thought how she sensed Chakotay was refraining from touching her in any way other than friendship, that he seemed wary of doing so. She still felt the embarrassment of trying to seduce him, cringing inwardly at how she rubbed herself against him. It hurt a little that he was simply doing a job for the Federation. He was sent to find her and that was that. Only, she had discovered he was Andrew's father. So if they had been intimate, how much did she love him when they made love? Had she given herself so freely, without restraint to a man who was her friend and subordinate? They made a child together. What would happen now that Andrew had become a fixed part of both their lives? What if Chakotay was married? What if she was married? What then? If he loved her then and she loved him, would those feelings still exist between them?

No, she decided, it was not easy to love a man like Chakotay. Already she felt such a strong pull towards him, but it was built upon hope and hope was something like waiting. She sighed, pushing her plate with the remaining crumbs of the pie away from her. She glanced at Linnea and shook her head.

"I am thinking it was not easy before, Kathryn," Linnea said, "when you were both working on the same vessel."

Kathryn smiled. "I will let the doctor know I don't need three more sessions with him. I want all my memories restored, right now. Then I will know."

"Good for you!"

***************************

END CHAPTER 11


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

Kathryn had created a dance studio programme in the small holodeck, mirrors covering three bulkheads. She was restless, her skin crawling again only after the EMH had reduced the drugs in her system. She was itching all over.

She cursed Dorron again, trying desperately to suppress the urge to fondle herself. In the mirror, her face appeared strained, sweaty. She blinked several times, willing away the unwanted feeling. She had to sway her body in the languid movements that always calmed her.

"Computer, Saint-Saëns _The Swan_."

Softly the music filled the holodeck, the violin plaintively crying into the silence. Kathryn began dancing, remembering her movements from a lifetime ago. Gracefully she rose on her toes, her arms mimicking the dying swan's wings, lifting, lifting, falling, falling, injured. Her movements were slow, the wind picking her up, carrying her on the currents homeward. Her face became enthralled as the music buoyed her, filling her soul. Music she had all but forgotten. Across the floor she flew, gracefully flailing her arms above her.

On and on she danced, allowing the beauty of sound to cleanse her and renew her being, giving her back the life she'd lost, the life that was her own, stolen until the hunter came. And the hunter pointed his arrows away from her, to the one who had injured her, and released her from captivity.

And the swan, no longer dying, rejoiced in her life regained. On and on she swirled, the satin fronds of her skirts lifted by the breeze she created as she moved. In her stockinged feet, she found her steps unerringly, swaying, then rising as her arms created the flapping wings of the swan.

Slowly, surely the screaming insects cries died down, their burrowing subsiding, finally easing through the perspiring pores of her legs, her neck, bare arms, her face until Kathryn began breathing. For as long as she danced, she held her breath, expelling thin wisps of air only.

The pain stopped, leaving her exhausted as she turned her back against the mirror and slid down until she could pull her knees up against her, her head bent in silent, glorious surrender.

She had no idea that Chakotay had quietly entered the holodeck and remained just inside the door, watching her dance, watching her slump down to the floor. Just as quietly he left again.

****************

_2381 Subspace message - Admirals Paris and Ponsonby_

_Kathryn is now aware that she is Kathryn Janeway. She has undergone the first of three or four treatments to restore her memory and to eradicate the residue of the pheromone injections she was given repeatedly over a period of three years._

_Kathryn's captor was a seedy low-life called Dorron who had several women working for him. Needless to say, I have killed him. It was, however, in defence. An alien called Isner of Kirlea assisted me over the first few days. He has taken the women to their respective homeworlds. Two women of Dorron's species are travelling with us. One of them took care of little Andrew while Kathryn was 'employed' elsewhere._

_Kathryn remembers things only of the past year, but another session - she might want to have the complete procedure - will restore her memory fully. When that happens, I have no idea how she will react. But one thing is certain, only Kathryn can really tell us what happened during her honeymoon and their fateful journey in that shuttle._

_She will be dealing with the fallout from that. More than anything, I think that her family around her will be her best counselling. She is bonding with her son now and she knows that I am Andrew's father. While she was in captivity, she created the graphemes of the English alphabet  for Dorron's computer so that she could write little stories for Andrew and read to him during those periods she was allowed to be with him._

_At this point, her memory of events on Voyager is only factual.  She is still not aware of the context and emotions but that will all change once she has recovered completely._

_We are on our way to Earth. Kathryn has been helping me to pilot the New Liberty. Her scientific instincts have kicked in!_

_I can tell you, however, that she remains sad, I think. She doesn't smile often, except when she is with her son. All that has happened to her is still weighing heavily on her. Full rehabilitation will take a while. I have told her about her family, so she remains curious about them._

_We are preparing to begin the next procedure. Then it will be a new adventure awaiting us all._

_Captain Chakotay_

*************************

Linnea stood behind Kathryn as they faced a mirror in her bedroom. Kathryn's hair had grown very long, flowing in long tresses down her back.

"How short do you want it?" Linnea asked, scissors in hand, a sheet covering Kathryn's shoulders.

"Uh…here," Kathryn indicated, her hand touching her shoulder, sliding perhaps a few centimetres further down.

She'd chosen that because of the most recent pictures of her in the Voyager crew database. Her hair had been in a bob, curling inwards. She liked the style. She'd seen Chakotay look at her, his gaze piercing as if he remembered things from her life on Voyager.

"So you do not wish to have reminders of your life with Dorron," Linnea suggested as she began snipping away.

"Never again."

"You have a warrior who will not let anything happen to you. He is very protective over you, Kathryn."

Kathryn gave a low chuckle. "He sees me only as a - a -"

"A what, Kathryn?"

"Reclamation project!"

There was a note of outrage in Kathryn's voice.

"I can tell you right now that is not the case. The way he looks at you? You do not see what Wadra and I see. He loves you. Why do you think he has spent three years searching for you? Why do you think he killed Dorron in cold blood? Did you see the rage on Chakotay's face that day?"

Kathryn gave a deep sigh. "I know nothing about how I must have felt about him in my past, Linnea. Everything is still hazy, those parts I do recollect. You know, like I only see the image but cannot make a connection with the emotions? It's just…there."

"Do not worry so! When you have all your memories restored, you will know. I am sure you loved him then, Kathryn, just as I know you’re falling in love with your warrior again."

"Oh, no - "

"It is true! You have looked at him like nothing I have ever seen before. There is love in your eyes, and Andrew! Oh, Andrew loves him just as much!"

Another soft sigh escaped Kathryn. "Chakotay and I, we were intimate the night before our ship entered our homeworld."

"Kathryn! He is Andrew's father? That is very good, isn't it? You were always wondering and that rotten Dorron kept telling you some other alien man fathered your child. I am so happy for you!"

"Yes. I am happy that he is. I trust Chakotay."

"Andrew looks like him, well, apart from the scowling countenance. But I see love there even through his hard features. Don't reject him, Kathryn."

"What will happen when I have regained my full memory? I am afraid."

"Of the truth?"

"Yes."

"Well, in two hours you will know. Just let me finish here. You look even more beautiful with this hair style."

Kathryn patted her hair, turned her head this way and that, smiled a little, her mouth curving up at the side. Then she turned to look directly at Linnea and squeezed her hand.

"Keep me in your thoughts. If I suddenly don't remember you, don't be alarmed, okay?"

******************

Chakotay spent all morning on the bridge. Darog Bohl space station was now a memory only. He'd planned to rendezvous with Isner at coordinates he had given the Kirlean. Already two of the women had been returned to their homes. Isner had contacted him with the news.

"Isner! Your nostril is smoking. Did you have sex with your wife?"

"You know it smokes when I am just sitting next to her. What about you? Has your Majja recovered? Did you make love to her?"

He'd nodded, then said, "Physically she is in excellent health. She is regaining her memory in stages, and no, I cannot take advantage of her while she has not recovered fully."

"I am happy for you. Happier even that you have saved my Nera too. She remembers me and all the poisons are now out of her system, thanks to your doctor. Also, Nera is with child!"

"That is great news indeed, Congratulations. Now, what about the other women?"

"They were welcomed on their homeworlds with open arms, Chakotay. Their families understood what had happened to them and that they could not be blamed. One of them had a little daughter. She is now five years old in your Earth years."

"I am glad. Take on additional trustworthy crew if you need assistance with running your ship."

"My Nera is crewing for me. She was an aviator before everything fell apart. Now, I love her more and more as each day passes. Do not worry, my friend."

"Get more crew, Isner, or train the other women still with you."

Isner had blustered, then signed off after promising that he'd recruit one or two drifters at the next space station.

Now Chakotay stared into the distance. Sighing deeply, he thought about Kathryn. When hadn't he thought about her? Or needed her?

Last night he'd gone looking for her and found she was using the holodeck. He'd needed her to pilot while he had other things to tend to. He'd done a quick check to ascertain that Andrew was still sleeping, before making his way to the holodeck.

He'd entered quietly, surprised to see a dance studio with full length mirrors. The music was aching, sweet, painful; he recognised it as an interlude he'd heard Kathryn play a few times during their weekly dinners on Voyager. _The Swan_ was always associated with ballet and Kathryn was dancing, her style very different from the excessive shameless hip swinging and body twisting of the Glitter Pit. It was far more lyrical, her movements beautiful, elegant. She was completely absorbed in her dancing, her entire body perspiring from her bare arms right down to her ankles and feet. She wore a body stocking and a gossamer skirt layered in delicate panels that swirled about her calves. Chakotay had wondered whether Kathryn was experiencing a spike in the pheromones. The last time she had wandered into his cabin to seduce him, the drug was still in her body. Could she have been dancing to drive it out of her system, to prevent herself from trying to do the same to him once more?

He watched for a minute or so and then decided to leave again, not wanting to disturb her

She'd told him this morning that she wanted the EMH to retrieve her memories in one session. He'd been surprised by her decision.

"Are you certain it's what you want to do? Remember, you were poisoned the most. There are still synthetic pheromones in your system. The memory eraser affected you hardest because of your human physiology."

"I am certain, Chakotay."

"But there are risks involved. You know we want to do this gradually."

"I know but I am willing to take the risk. The first session left me with great trauma. To deal with that, I have to deal with everything else, however unpalatable some of the events are."

"There are many things you don't know - "

"But they are mine, surely? Mine to experience, to question or to validate and explain."

He had been surprised by the hard resolve in her eyes. She reminded him so much of their days on Voyager, when it had been difficult to persuade her to accept his caution or better judgment.

"Fine. We'll schedule it for 1600. Wadra will take care of Andrew and Linnea will help monitor your progress."

"Thank you. There are risks and I am still a little afraid but I cannot wait any longer. I need to put my whole life in context. You understand that, don't you?"

He'd nodded again. Kathryn had remained in her quarters with Andrew, reading stories to him. Now his heart thudded painfully against his ribcage. He too was afraid of how Kathryn would react. There was her dead husband who had taken her on a honeymoon fraught with danger and deception. A husband who was not what he pretended to be. There were seven years of Kathryn rejecting him, of her embarrassed pleas that he make love to her. There was the fact of their night of lovemaking, that they'd created a beautiful child together. Some of the things Kathryn knew, but not the emotional context of those memories. There was Seven of Nine who stood between them like a behemoth, the beginning of his misery and hers. Seven of Nine with whom he eventually split but remained friends.

Kathryn didn't know of any of those developments. There were so many things he'd have to tell her about.

And then, her reaction to the life she'd led as Dorron's sex slave. Chakotay closed his eyes at that thought. She had been abused in the most abominable way imaginable. It was something she'd have to live with for the rest of her life.

At 1530 he left the bridge, New Liberty running on autopilot while he was gone. It was vital that he get at least one more person to crew. But all that after the session. Quickly he made his way to the sick bay.

When he entered, he received a minor shock as he looked at Kathryn. She was sitting on the biobed and the EMH was busy with the scanners, filling hyposprays, ready to begin the reintegration. Her hair had been cut to shoulder length and curved gently into her neck. He was speechless for a few seconds. She looked like Captain Janeway, like the commander of her starship, like he remembered her from those days on Voyager.

"You cut your hair," he said finally, stating the obvious.

"I had a look in the database of the crew. I like it this way."

Again her eyes had a faraway look in them, then a sudden little jolt of her head as if she tried to shake off unpleasant memories. As Majja her hair had been very long. As Kathryn, she wanted to put that part of her life behind her.

"It suits you. I always liked it."

"I think after this session I will know what the 'always' is you're talking about," Kathryn responded, her mouth curving at the corner.

Chakotay felt a fierce burn across his chest. Kathryn could make his insides turn to mush just by smiling.

"You will, make no mistake. Andrew is happy with Wadra. Linnea will come in later. She is interested in learning more about human physiology and medical practice - "

"She told me she wanted to be of service when we get home, in our Federation. She is multitalented!"

"She is a good friend, Kathryn. You know we will visit her homeworld for shore leave…" he said, his voice trailing a little. He didn't want to tell her that he had to report Dorron's death to the Krepekian authorities as well as a complete summary of the Krepekian's activities.

"She is."

"I am ready, Kathryn."

"Doctor, please, could you go offline for a few minutes? I wish to speak to Chakotay alone."

"Certainly."  Chakotay didn't want to laugh at the outraged tone of the doctor. His mouth felt stiff anyway, apprehension building up in him. He didn't want to be alone with Kathryn, didn't want to touch her

"Chakotay…"

"You have doubts?"

"None that will kill me." There was a pause before Kathryn continued. "I sense you have been avoiding me, as if you're afraid to touch me. This is a very big moment for me and I would like you to be here for me - "

"I will always be by your side, Kathryn. I promised your mother and sister that."

"Only to protect me. Did you love me once and not anymore? Did I love you?"

Chakotay's eyes closed at the unexpected ferocity of her words. This was a Kathryn who had no reserve about how she felt about him. She could love him and not hold back those emotions. He didn't want to take advantage of this Kathryn. The old Kathryn twisted his heart in a thousand knots, always teasing and never revealing her feelings. If she loved him, she never showed him, never acted upon it. Always driven by fear, duty, command, her indefatigable desire to get her crew safely home kept Kathryn Janeway hard and uncompromising.

That was the Kathryn who would wake up once her memories were restored completely.

"No, Kathryn," he said finally, "you did not love me…"

But he could see she didn't believe him.

"Please, stay and hold my hand?" she asked.

"Sure. Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram."

"Ready?" the EMH asked them when he appeared next to Chakotay. When they nodded, he indicated that Kathryn lie down on the bed. Then he repeated the procedure of placing a cortical stimulator against her forehead and another just above her temple.

Kathryn's hand sought Chakotay's like someone drowning, her face turned to him, her eyes trusting. He squeezed her hand, gratified when she smiled.

"I'm here, Kathryn. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Thank you. Whatever happens, Chakotay, thank you."

He couldn't smile, couldn't acknowledge her gratitude. Instead, he nodded to the doctor to proceed. The EMH administered a sedative and Kathryn's eyes closed, like someone who had not slept for a long time, her eyelids simply dropping down.

Then the monitors began a soft whirring sound, like the first time she had undergone the treatment. The Doctor first injected an antiserum to counter the memory erasing drugs Dorron had pumped into her body. The cortical stimulator as well as the memory enhancer were linked to all the logs of the past three years as well as Kathryn's personal logs from her Voyager years. They'd worked out that that would be enough to stimulate Kathryn's brain. The rest they hoped, would simply kick in.

Kathryn sighed in her unconscious state as the drug began taking effect. Chakotay swore under his breath, still furious at the way Dorron had targeted Kathryn, her treatment the severest of all the women. Dorron had taken a bizarre, sick liking to Kathryn and to keep her with him, he had injected her almost daily, sometimes double or triple doses according to Dorron's logs. Only he termed it as Kathryn being disobedient and therefore had to be punished.

All she needed now was his support and ultimately, the love and support of her family. Like the women Isner had taken to their homeworld, whose families welcomed their return with loving open arms, Kathryn would also be received by hers.

What would be the first things Kathryn would remember? Odd pleasant conversations during their weekly dinners? Arguments they'd had about rash decisions made?

Chakotay closed his eyes as he remembered that last morning after their night of love. Words he remembered only now, coming back from three years ago, forgotten in the pain and melancholy of their separation…

"Chakotay," she'd whispered close to his ear, lying in his arms, her body warm and soft.

"What is it?"

"I wish you'd waited…"

The words were so soft he'd wondered whether he'd heard her at all.

"You wanted this," he replied. "Please, let it be enough, okay?"

She'd remained quiet a long time after that. They'd made love again as she swung her leg over his body and straddled him. After that they'd both known it was over. A feeling of emptiness had been inside him for a long, long time. In fact, the vacuum left by Kathryn that night could not be filled, not even by Seven of Nine. Seven who'd mercifully brought their liaison to an end, still wishing to remain friends with him.

Now Chakotay's attention was brought to the present by the quivering body of Kathryn on the biobed. She lay with her eyes closed but he could see how her eyeballs appeared to dart under the closed lids. Was she having horrible nightmares?

Half an hour later, Chakotay, seated with Kathryn's hand still firmly held in his, noticed something. Kathryn's body had been shuddering intermittently from the start. He had assumed they were memories returning to her, especially those linked to her traumas. But now something else was happening.

"Doctor…"

"What is it?" the EMH asked as he looked up from monitoring the scanners.

"What is this?"

A green substance trickled slowly from Kathryn's nose and ears. He jumped up suddenly to get a swab and began wiping the fluid from her. It smelled like sickness, old pus built up inside her.

"Her body has been pumped so full of toxins, Captain, that now the serum is doing its work, she is secreting them. It is actually a good thing, because it cleanses her. Besides regaining her memory, she will experience a much healthier state. Did the girls ever eat much while under that fiend's thumb?"

"I highly doubt it, Doc. Also, Kathryn's physiology being so much different from the other alien races, it's quite possible that the food in these sectors did not always agree with her. She is still very thin, I must say."

"Well, thank goodness you rescued her in time. Admiral Janeway would not have seen another year, living like she did.

The doctor's words shocked Chakotay and turned him ice cold. There was no doubt the EMH was speaking the truth. Kathryn, for all that she appeared healthy, was slowly dying. It wasn't something he'd told the admirals in his original communiqué because he hadn't known the extent to which Dorron had poisoned her. So he kept cleaning Kathryn's nose and ears until eventually the oozing stopped. Still, her body shuddered as the reintegration continued. At one point, her body lifted off the bed and he pressed her gently down, feeling the tremors rocking her as he touched her. His heart ached for her, for the trauma of remembering once more all the ills in her life.

Then he settled again on the chair, holding her hand, rubbing the back of it, hoping his nearness and his touch found an echo in her heart. At times he closed his eyes, imagining he saw his father, imagining Kolopak speaking to him in calm tones. Once he'd spoken to his father in a vision quest about his love for his captain. Kolopak had been succinct when he said, "She will come to you when the time is right."

The time was never right, of that he'd become convinced as the years passed on Voyager and waiting had become a hopeless endeavour. Waiting and hoping. Ensign Kaplan speaking to him on that fateful shuttle mission, about one being akin to the other, that waiting would be rewarded and one could fly as high as the eagles.

Why had he lost hope? Why, for the love of God? Was that his punishment, that he took Seven of Nine to his bed? What had he wanted to accomplish? Parade Annika before his captain? Make Kathryn relent and give him what he so dearly wanted: her love? Had he really been so stupid and callous as to blackmail Kathryn into revealing her feelings and beg him not to take Seven? How much courage did it take Kathryn Janeway to ask that he make love to her?

Why hadn't he waited? Only days after he'd made his promise to Seven, Kathryn had come to him, pleading that he make love to her. He couldn't blame her at all, couldn't ask her why she hadn't told him sooner, before he slept with Seven.

"Oh, Kathryn!" he pleaded in anguish, his lips moving although no sound came from him, "forgive me, forgive me…"

He dozed off, his head lolling until he leaned against her, his eyes closing into a dazed kind of slumber.  Later he awoke bleary-eyed when the EMH shook his shoulder.

"Huh?"

"I'm about to wake her up, Captain. Be prepared."

Chakotay rubbed his eyes and stood up. Bracing his hands on the side of the bed he felt suddenly wide awake and also very anxious. Kathryn moaned, moving her head from side to side. His heart hammered so loudly against his ribcage he was afraid the EMH might hear the pounding. His mouth was dry, expectation rising in his throat, almost choking him to the point that his eyes became watery.

Kathryn moaned again, a sound that emanated from deep inside her. Her head was turned to face him.

Then her eyes flew open, instantly connecting to his.

"Chakotay…" she whispered in pained recognition.

"Yes, it's me."

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Her face creased as if she was attempting to stop something inevitable, a force that stormed through her body.

They fell. Kathryn's tears. Like waterfalls plunging from great heights, they soaked into the pillow. Yet her eyes never left him. The creasing became more intense, filling her face, something deep and dark, too terrible to emerge, heartache combined with terror and shame, God help him, shame!

"Kathryn?"

She sat up on the bed and launched herself into his arms. She was so warm he thought she had a fever. Her muffled cries against his shoulder were not so indistinct that he or the EMH couldn't hear them.

"He turned me into a whore, Chakotay! A whore!"

******

END CHAPTER 12

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting two chapters as I feel they should really be read as one. Chapter 13 is "Kathryn's story". Readers often asked at the start, when will Kathryn tell what/how it happened. Please bear with me. I have shed a tear or two writing these chapters, for what happened to Kathryn is not new. I am sure readers are aware of these criminal acts in our modern day.

* * *

Human trafficking is a form of modern slavery—a multi-billion dollar criminal industry that denies freedom to 20.9 million people around the world. And no matter where you live, chances are it's happening nearby. From the girl forced into prostitution at a truck stop, to the man discovered in a restaurant kitchen, stripped of his passport and held against his will. All trafficking victims share one essential experience: the loss of freedom.

Polarisproject.org

* * *

**[Kathryn's story]**

Kathryn turned one last time to look at Chakotay on the bed. She'd taken time to dress, prolonging the moment of parting. Once back in her own quarters she would shower again, put on a fresh uniform before heading for the bridge where he would join her perhaps a minute later. The sheets covered his lower torso, his eyes on her as she walked to the doors. They'd made love intermittently through the night. Her shame and embarrassment had flown in the wake of his murmured endearments.

She'd known of his commitment to Seven of Nine, yet wanted him to make love to her. It was a last gasp attempt to feel him close, with her, in her. She'd denied herself for so long and suddenly, knowing of his promise to another, she couldn't stop herself from asking for a night of love.

It was humiliating to beg, that she felt driven to do that. But it was over. He'd taken her and been sweet, patient with her, loving her as if there was no one else in the world for him.

But came the morning, the intricate dance of love was over. She'd asked earlier why he didn't wait. She would live with his response forever.

"You wanted this. Let it be enough."

Sighing, she left his quarters. Half an hour later she was on the bridge, joined by him a few minutes after that.

They acted like nothing had happened between them the previous night. To the senior officers their early morning easy banter was simply normal, like every morning for the past seven years. No one suspected that their command team had had a night of passion. They'd done what commanders did best - put their acting hats on and won awards for best performance in their starring roles.

"Friends?" he asked with a smile, one she felt didn't reach his eyes.

"Yes."

Friendships, she thought, were forged in crucibles where it was possible that your best friend would die for you, or you would do the same for him. How did their celebrated friendship end? For that was what she felt that day on the bridge. Even when he asked whether they were still friends, she had sensed intuitively that it was the end between them, no matter what had happened that night. She mourned what she had lost, what they both lost because she was stupid to make him wait and he? He had given her what she asked, and that had to be enough. The end of a great friendship and partnership. Was it her fault? Was it because she couldn't bear seeing Chakotay side by side with Seven of Nine? She could never, in all of creation, come between them. And that was why she wore her mourning veil and closeted her grief deep within her.

They'd returned to great fanfare after seven years in the Delta Quadrant. For the first two or three weeks they spent in debriefings, she saw very little of Chakotay and Seven. When she did, they'd maintained the platitudes of normal social interaction. That both Chakotay and Seven had decided to pursue careers in Starfleet surprised and distressed her. She'd have to see them at every turn. It drove a stake that much deeper into her heart.

Those first weeks she’d spent with her mother and stepfather on their farm in Indiana, with Tom and B'Elanna occasionally stopping by.

"Kathryn," her mother asked her one day, after the debriefings, "you are home yet you don't seem happy, my dear."

"Whatever can you mean, Mother? We just returned after seven years away from home. Of course I'm happy."

"Come here," Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby ordered and then gently pulled her towards the great kitchen of the farmhouse. "It's in your eyes. I am your mother and I'm not blind. Everyone who is anyone is telling me and Adam about your first officer and the great friendship you had on Voyager, an unbreakable bond, according to Tom and B'Elanna. What is the matter? What happened?"

She felt her face draining, knew she was pale when Gretchen held her gaze. She wasn't going to get out of explaining. Her troubles were her own, just like on Voyager when she'd always successfully managed to suppress them, hiding them from her crew. She sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging in defeat. Her mother had to know. 

"He is spoken for, Mother."

"Spoken for? What kind of archaic language is that? Seems like Chakotay couldn't wait - "

"No, he didn't."

Gretchen gazed into her eyes, instinctively grasping her hands.

"Oh, Kathryn! I am so sorry!"

"Don't be. I swear I'll be happy again."

Then she met Vice-Admiral Daryl Wentworth. Young to be an admiral, urbane, handsome, infinitely aware of his charm. Liquid light brown eyes in a clean shaven face, hair smoothed into a style that reminded her of film stars of mid-twentieth century Hollywood, an admiral more suited in appearance to the performing arts.

Wentworth had risen through the ranks of Starfleet very fast. He was younger than her by five years, so she'd graduated from the Academy before him. She didn't know him at all before the night of the celebration. She surmised that the depletion of personnel - cadets and officers - after the war meant promotions were accelerated. They'd been gone seven years; at home a lot had happened and a lot more had changed.

He'd seen her from across the ballroom at the first celebration of Voyager's return. Thrown a little by his brashness, she wondered how much of human nature had also changed. But he seemed unafraid and willing to engage in conversation with Voyager's captain. They talked, found common interests and soon they dated, her bruised heart slowly healing. Her promotion to admiral had not come as a surprise and soon she threw herself into her work.

She liked Daryl, liked that he was fresh, was on top of current affairs in the Federation, presented a strong, decisive demeanour, the kind of attributes those in leadership invariably had. Perhaps she was fooled by what he presented, never seeking to delve beneath his air of urbanity. If she admitted it to herself, her feelings for Chakotay still lay too close to the surface, the memory of their night of passion unforgettable.

Daryl Wentworth was quick to home in on the fact that between captain and first officer had existed a very special bond, but that that association was broken by Commander Chakotay's relationship with the former Borg.

"It's an invitation to the President's wife’s birthday celebration. You don't have to accompany me, Kathryn," Daryl said a few weeks later. "But I'd be much obliged if you did me the honour."

She'd seen Chakotay and Seven in the gardens of Starfleet Command, often touching, in deep conversation.

"I'd love to accompany you, Daryl."

"Thank you. Surprise me with a beautiful ball gown." Daryl smiled, his teeth even and pearly white, his eyes earnest and interested.

Her simple off the shoulder cream gown apparently garnered a lot of gasps. Even Daryl, not normally overwhelmed by what she wore off duty, couldn't keep his eyes off her the entire evening.

"You look ravishing," he whispered close to her ear on the dance floor.

"You don't look too badly yourself, Admiral Wentworth," she replied, gracing him with her trademark humorous lift at the corner of her mouth. He looked resplendent in dress uniform.

So they continued dating, became a couple people invited to dinners, celebrations, concerts, award ceremonies. She liked being seen with Daryl, enjoyed the attention which soothed her battered soul and undying love for Chakotay.

They'd met Chakotay once at a ceremony, another one of those interminable dinners. Chakotay had left his table and came to greet her. Daryl had been deep in conversation with a person - an Andorian - whom she didn't know at all.

"I see you found someone, Admiral," Chakotay said.

She glanced sharply at him, expecting to see cynicism in his eyes but there was no tone of victory. He genuinely appeared happy for her. But then, she knew Chakotay as she knew herself. They were both good at holding their cards very close to their chests, past masters at masking their true feelings. How could it not be? She had not known the depth of what Chakotay felt for her, had always been at pains to hide the depth of her own feelings.

"His name is Daryl - "

"I know," Chakotay'd cut in. "Well, I have to go. Good to see you, Kathryn."

"Likewise, Chakotay."

But, oh, how she missed him, how just seeing him close up awakened all those feelings she'd tried desperately to suppress. She wasn't going to show how his nearness affected her. He'd left her table and soon Daryl returned, a strange, penetrating look in his eyes.

"Shall we leave, my love?" Daryl asked as he rose again and held out his hand to her. Sighing, she complied. They were both based in Paris and shuttled between that city and Starfleet Headquarters.

Later that night, she lay in his arms after they'd made love. It was adequate, she decided. Those first times with Daryl. It was not Chakotay. Sometimes, God help her, she fantasised that Chakotay was the one making love to her.

"Kathryn, my love," Daryl spoke into the dark night air, "I have something I think might make our lovemaking more…sensual."

"What is it?"

She blushed in the darkness, embarrassed that she kept faking her orgasms, that Daryl, for all his outward sophistication and sex appeal, never engaged in foreplay. It surprised her, for she wanted to please him. They'd been together almost two months and sex had been mostly satisfactory. Perhaps her constant yearning for a man no longer interested in her caused the kind of coldness that had come over her whenever Daryl made love to her.

"It is a pheromone," he replied. "If we took it, sex and lovemaking would be infinitely more enjoyable, don't you think? We can both take it!"

Kathryn frowned heavily. Taking drugs to enhance her sexual drive was foreign to her. She almost blurted that with Chakotay they hadn't needed any at all the way they'd made love through the night, fed by their raging hunger for one another.

She knew about pheromones, had been a walking libido Queen Arachnia on Voyager. It was strong, affecting both partners, but particularly females.

"Kathryn?"

_Oh, Chakotay…_

"Yes," she said on a soft sigh, closing her eyes in shame.

It hadn't occurred to her to ask where he got it, assuming it was something he’d simply replicated earlier. Had he used it on other lovers as well?

He'd pressed the hypospray gently against her and almost instantly it had taken effect, her body burning up in sexual need, heightened exponentially to the dosage Daryl had given her. She had no shame after that when they made love, becoming a screaming, aggressive, wanton hussy, bent on seducing her lover every few hours in bed. If that was the way she could make him happy, then she was ready to continue their relationship that way. She could forget Chakotay, not think of him while in the throes of unnatural orgasms.

Then Admiral Paris sent her a communication. When she opened it on her office vidcom, she realised it was on a secure, private channel.

"Kathryn," he said the moment his face appeared on the screen, "we need to talk."  There was no greeting, no reference to her rank. How personal was it?

"Admiral! Good to see you too. What can I do for you?"

A frisson of fear trickled down her spine. Admiral Paris looked almost stern, like those heady long-ago days at the Academy when cadets stood in awe of him. Kathryn felt like a child being admonished.

"Kathryn, how well do you know Daryl Wentworth?"

_We're sleeping together, if that's what you want to know._

She bit back the sarcastic retort.

"Since we returned from Deep Space Nine. Is anything the matter?"

This time Admiral Paris sighed.

"It is probably not my business - "

"No, it's not, Admiral Paris," she stated firmly. She wasn't going to tell him Daryl injected them with pheromones to spice up their sex life. Definitely not his business.

"You're smart, Kathryn. The smartest person I know. Don't be fooled by appearances."

"You don't have to worry, Admiral. Was that all?"

"No, but you're not ready to hear more, I'm afraid. Just…be careful, will you?"

"Thank you, Admiral,"

The older man signed off abruptly and Kathryn spent the rest of the afternoon pondering on his words. They sounded ominous, a portent of strange things she hadn't thought would be concocted by one of the finest officers in Starfleet.

She didn't tell Daryl about Owen Paris' communication. That night her lover had been extra loving, his attentiveness all but displacing her initial distrust. She was enjoying sex for the first time since her night of love with Chakotay. Slowly her yearning for him began to abate, though she swore it never left her.

She still saw Chakotay, mainly in passing, giving a few classes at the Academy. She remained stiffly formal with him, not daring to broach anything personal, especially careful when Seven was with him. It was inevitable that they'd bump into one another. 

Kathryn had a slight reprieve when Daryl spent a week off world for "classified" stuff, as he called it. It sounded somewhat clandestine, but he'd assured her it was nothing illegal. A rendezvous that seemed completely above board. His travel plans checked out when she'd surreptitiously used her level four clearance to determine whether he was telling the truth. She hated spying on him but Owen Paris had sowed some seeds of doubt in her.

Then something happened in her San Francisco apartment, which had once belonged to her parents.

She'd unexpectedly passed out on the couch in her living room. She'd been feeling off kilter a lot during the last week or so. She found herself lying halfway off the couch when she'd been sitting up reading. The book lay on the floor. She frowned heavily and a slight dread came over her.

She walked to her bathroom and got out her med-kit. Her hand trembled as she activated the medical tricorder, its little lights flashing before she read the information. Her heart throbbed wildly and then she turned ice, ice cold.

"It cannot be… Oh, God…" she murmured as the reality hit her. She gazed at the readout as if transfixed, her sudden, intuitive entreaty that it go away hopeless.

But there it was, real, very real. She studied the readout again.

Date of conception… The night she and Chakotay made love, two months ago. She was two months pregnant. Distressed, she shut the tricorder, packed it back in the med-kit and locked it away, as if her condition was a spectre that would leave very soon.

She sat down on the couch, her head in her hands. She needed to breathe, to inhale long gulps of air. But then they'd create a dizziness that all but threatened to make her lose consciousness again. What was happening? Her chest hurt as she tried to take in air.

"Take it easy, take short breaths, relax, don't force anything, easy now…"

Once, when she and Chakotay had been trapped in a narrow shaft of a mining colony on U'lak , their air supply cut off, Chakotay had kept them both alive. He'd held her close to him and told her to take very small breaths. Then they'd been quiet a while before he'd gently instructed her take it easy, not to force herself.

So she forced her body to relax, every muscle becoming limp, remembering Chakotay's instructions. She lay down on the couch and felt how the stabbing pain gradually decreased until it was gone.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered, her face buried in the upholstery. "God, Chakotay! I'm carrying your son…"

_I must go to Chakotay. I must tell him._

_No! How can I do so? He has Seven of Nine. He is happy with his choice!_

_A little voice told her, "But he must know! Don't let convention stand in your way!"_

_He must know. I owe him that at least._

She stood up eventually, glad that she didn't tremble so much. Her hand caressed her belly. Then she heard footsteps down the corridor, realising belatedly that Daryl was scheduled to return.

"I must tell Daryl…" she told herself before her front door opened and he stood there.

"Kathryn? What are you supposed to tell me?"

"Daryl, I - I am pregnant," she said slowly. "But I must tell you the - "

"Pregnant? We're going to have a child?" he asked, clearly thunderstruck.

Had she time to notice, Daryl didn't smile or express total joy.

"Please, it's - I have to tell you that the baby - "

"Don't be alarmed, Kathryn. We'll get married right now."

"Daryl!"

"Yes, let us go now. We'll go to Headquarters. Admiral Brubaker will join us in marriage. Then we can leave on our honeymoon, a six week sabbatical. That was part of my short mission off-world, honey. I was planning on asking you to marry me, had to complete a few other things too. You will marry me, won't you?"

"Yes, but - "

"No 'buts', my love. I love you. We'll be on a six week cruise on the Wilmington to Begoria. It's a lot like Risa."

Why had she not taken more notice of his eyes? Those beautiful liquid brown eyes in which the light threw little shadows. He was so handsome, the sex had never been better thanks to his pheromones. But those eyes were never quite direct. Perhaps, she tried to convince herself, that was always the way he was. She couldn't tell Chakotay because he was so deep into his relationship with Seven. The times she saw them they always looked so close, so comfortable with one another. How could she come between them?

Kathryn gave a sigh, walked into Daryl's arms and rested her head against his chest. He was what she had, and was prepared to marry her. Daryl who thought her baby was his, through a misunderstanding. She'd tried to correct him several times, but he took no notice of her protestations.

She was tired, so very tired. Tired of pretending, tired of yearning so much for a man who was no longer hers, tired of everything.

"Will you marry me, Kathryn?"

"Yes, Daryl. Let's get married."

So, before they left for the Wilmington, she put a communication through to Admiral Paris, spoke briefly to her mother who sounded more outraged than surprised and closed contact before Gretchen Janeway could speak further. She didn't tell them of her pregnancy. They all knew now that she was leaving on her honeymoon, would be back in six weeks and after that continue her life as the wife of Vice-Admiral Daryl Wentworth.

On her first night in the Wilmington's executive suite, Kathryn closed herself in the bathroom, soaked in her tub and wept bitter tears.

They spent a month on the Wilmington, guests of Captain Heinz Oberholzer. Daryl was attentive, careful, investigated sex during pregnancy, injected her every night. She understood his obsession with orgasmic screaming every night and sometimes during the day, yet somewhere, deep in her subconscious she equated it unfavourably with the night Chakotay made love to her.

Her union with Daryl Wentworth was not the joining of souls.

Deep in Federation space, they left the Wilmington in Daryl's private shuttle. They were on their way to rendezvous with people on Begoria, which Kathryn discovered was not a member of the United Federation of Planets. She felt queasy sometimes but used medicines to counter her nausea. They had a large bunk in the shuttle's rear, an ablution cubicle, basically well fitted out for a large runabout. Daryl had told her how he'd saved credits since his Academy years to acquire his vessel and had upgraded it from time to time to meet the latest specifications.

She missed Chakotay, though that longing was a dull throbbing inside her. When she and Daryl made love, she could forget Chakotay a little, but in the aftermath of sex she tended to brood on what might have been.

"What is wrong, my dear?" Daryl asked from the conn, turning on the seat to glance back at her.

"Just slight queasiness, nothing to worry about. Baby is fine."

Although at the end of her first trimester, she wasn't showing any bumps, had not picked up weight and was a little concerned about her appetite. She was going to see their EMH as soon as they were back in Earth's orbit. It worried her that she hadn't seen a medical officer yet, not even the CMO on board the Wilmington. Only now, thinking about it, Daryl had been very clever at suggesting she didn't need any doctor, that they'd see one as soon as they were home, that there was nothing to worry about.

"Don't worry, my love. In about twenty four hours you will feel great and your life will change forever."

Twenty four hours later, her life changed.

Forever.

She had been so wrong about Daryl. So entirely wrong. Admiral Paris' words had flown past her, warning her and she wouldn't listen.

A blue shimmer in the rear of the shuttle and Kathryn swung round to see an alien standing there. She glanced at Daryl, frowning heavily. Daryl, it seemed, showed no surprise.

"Daryl, what's this? Who is this?"

Daryl Wentworth. Accelerated up the Starfleet chain of command.

Handsome, suave, articulate.

He looked at her and smiled. She frowned at that smile for it never reached his eyes, and she realised that he never smiled with his eyes. Suddenly the skin on his face appeared taut, even a little off-colour, his lips curled into a sneer she had never seen. Why did he look so different? Even ugly?

He glanced briefly at the newcomer as if he knew the alien, then at her again. He stood up and gripped her elbow, ushering her with no gentleness towards the alien.

"Now, Kathryn, you are going to give him what you give me every night."

Then he pushed her into the arms of the alien.

***************** 

END CHAPTER 13

 


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

**[The present]**

_If I run, I am dead. There is no escape. If I don't run, I will die soon._

_He pushed me into the alien's arms. How difficult is it to describe what happened next? The surprise that my own husband betrayed me? The pain, the degradation, the humiliation? My pleas that I am pregnant? Being defenceless against the force of two men, one who held me down and the other…_

_My hate was instant. Daryl was no longer Vice-Admiral Wentworth. That man never existed. What was in his place? A sick animal who thrived on sick sexual practices hidden under a layer of sophistication. I should have been alerted when he injected me with pheromones that first time._

_By day tied to my chair, by night writhing under an alien, my body pumped full of drugs. My husband is not a husband. He is gloss that conceals a heart and mind so evil, I still shudder at my own stupidity in following him, in thinking a life with him would make me forget a man whose love I threw in his face._

_What is better? This life or being dead?_

_He screams at me to be compliant. This man I married. This mistake I made._

_"Come now, Kathryn, I know you're showing a bump, but you can still have sex with him…"_

_"I am so tired, Daryl. Just let me go home, please."_

_"Listen, on this shuttle, you are my hussy and everyone else's. Understood?"_

_A slap across her face. She doesn't fight back, clutching her belly instead, trying to protect her baby._

_"Did you think I wouldn't know? That is not my kid in there, you whore!"_

_"Then let me go!"_

_"They are paying a lot, honey. I'm getting rich. They want a human woman, good flesh, good fuck. You do that so well. Now, let me inject you."_

_"Daryl, no! No more!"_

_It was hopeless to fight. Her body weakened by another drug, one that kept her body compliant, her will contained. She could feel the first flutters of the growing baby in her. She wanted to be glad, to feel the joy of carrying Chakotay's child. It was all that kept her going, the urge to die so great, but Andrew keeping her alive._

_Andrew. She'd already decided to name her baby Andrew._

_*_

She told Chakotay everything. It wasn't the smooth, well told tale that one could discern might have contained an element of deceit about it, but in stops and starts that denoted an unequivocal, horrific truth. There was a beginning, and there was progression, expressed in tormented narrating accompanied by storms of tears, of raging, sometimes an anger so deep that Chakotay had had to sedate her, making her lie down with her little boy spooned to her body. Then the shuddering would last for endless minutes until it finally stilled. Young Andrew appeared attuned to these outbursts of his mother, for he'd snuggle against her bosom and start singing softly an old Earth lullaby Kathryn had taught him.

At other times, she was emotionless as she recounted her story with none of the tears and sobbing, immersing herself in those emotions that had won in every confrontation with aliens, crew, subordinates, her first officer during those years on Voyager. She'd look at Chakotay with dead eyes and relate her terrifying ordeal and those of the other women.

A week after Kathryn regained her memory, she was exhausted, spent. Too many tears, too much rage, too much emotion and too little of it, remaining resilient in the onslaught of the violent and heartless treatment of her.

The sex, the dancing, painting her body, injected with pheromones and other drugs to heighten her sexuality, the money that changed hands, the terror of the birth of her child, the sorrowful joy... How could she remain oblivious to all those things that had happened during the past three years? Kathryn Janeway wondered as she sat at the computer in the small engineering room, working on the hyperdrive specifications. It was never going to be easy. There were so many memories that jostled for control that she was developing migraines on a daily basis. She hadn't told Chakotay yet about her headaches. In a way she wanted them, for they kept her trials in the foreground, always ready to access at any given moment. She wanted to forget and she wanted to remember. What kind of paradox was added to her life now? To recollect without any impulse then force the memory away.

Sighing, Kathryn put those thoughts behind her, taking deep breaths to centre herself. Chakotay had been exceptional, she realised. He had taken a broken doll and slowly began repairing her, like a master craftsman patiently taking the pieces and putting them together, her blood and her tears the glue that assisted in her healing.

Chakotay's patience. She had forgotten how she could lean on him and this time she was not afraid to do so, not debating every single point in the whys and why-nots like she had done on Voyager. Then she'd always believed she didn't need his protection, his strength to use as a crutch. Now she welcomed that closeness. She had not asked him about Seven of Nine, not because she was afraid of hearing the truth, but because she knew he would share that with her when he was ready.

She smiled to herself. The first job he gave her when she recovered from the first bout of rage and sorrow required access to the ship's computers.

"The new hyperdrive for this vessel and other smaller roundabouts was designed by Torres, Paris, Harry Kim and Seven of Nine."

"They know about me?"

"Not what you'd been through, but the project was classified. Because I've traveled so deep into this quadrant, Admiral Paris wanted you to assist me with improving this ship's warp drive. Your scientific expertise far outclasses my own. The minute I found you, I let them know. The specifications were sent only two weeks ago."

"Chakotay…"

"Yes?"

"I cannot think or wish away the three years of my life that I - "  She paused, swallowed painfully. Then, "But I am glad you came for me. I would surely have died. Thank you."

They'd had dinner together in his quarters. Wadra and Linnea were entertaining Andrew before his bedtime. Kathryn noted Chakotay’s medicine wheel and a gentle smile tugged at the corner of her mouth remembering how often she had seen it in his quarters on Voyager. He'd looked at her for long moments before dropping his gaze, picking at the food on his plate.

"You don't have to thank me, Kathryn - "

"Chakotay! You told me how Admiral Paris and my stepfather and mother sent you on this mission three years ago! One in which you didn't want to endanger the lives of former Voyager crew so you traveled alone. To search for me, to find me. To uncover the dreadful practice of sex trafficking, saving countless lives…"

"Kathryn…"

"I've read your logs, am still reading them. What you yourself have experienced surely requires a measure of counselling."

"I'll take my chances. Talking to you is good enough. You are safe now. We have a long way to go still. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

She'd relented and continued with her meal, thinking about her parents, her sister, wondering about being home. A part of her life was over. So much of what had happened to her had her own hubris at the heart of it. But it was over. No use reflecting on the regrets.

"Damn!" she muttered as she hit a wall. "Patience, girl. Take a deep breath. You're almost there. After that I enhance the core and we'll be home in double quick time."

_I was a whore, a high class prostitute,…Mother…_

_Will you forgive me, Mother?_

***************

**2381 - Sector 895 Gamma Quadrant**

**Subspace communiqué - Admirals Paris and Ponsonby.**

_Kathryn's memories have now been fully integrated. As I have suspected, it has come with major traumatic recollections. Kathryn was adamant that she wanted to have full restoration, not in the three or four sessions as the EMH originally planned._

_She has told me the full story of what happened to her, from the moment she met Wentworth and left with him on their honeymoon. I can tell you she was not only a victim from the start, but had been groomed by him, targeted from the day Voyager’s crew and families celebrated their homecoming. Wentworth, as we know, had no moral centre; everything devious lay under a veneer of good breeding._

Chakotay thought of that day - was it a week ago? - when Kathryn woke up on the biobed. He could see in her eyes, the way she looked at him, that it was within the context of full recognition. Before that she'd acknowledged him because he told her that was who he was. Now, the history of their relationship - friends, mentors, colleagues, lovers - lay in her eyes. She might well have asked, "Chakotay? You?" And then the ferocity of her shame hit him full in the face. It was the helpless cry of an animal that echoed in the sick bay. He'd nodded to the doctor to go offline so that he could be alone with her. The words, 'He turned me into a whore' tore from her bosom in a ripping pain so great that even he felt the force of it.

She'd hurled herself into his embrace and told him in a stammering voice what Wentworth had done to her, right from the start, how he had groomed her, the pheromones he acquired from very dubious sources, injecting her even before they married. She had lost Chakotay forever and had thought that Daryl cared, that whatever he'd given her was okay. In stumbling words, she'd told him how stupid she'd been to tie her destiny to such a man, how she regretted her choices, having to live with them. She had been  weak, she'd cried, too weak to withstand Daryl's wheedling insistence that he would make things good for her.

And he'd thought in those agonising minutes how he too, regretted not waiting, not being able to save her instantly. He'd wept with her, their tears mingling, but felt glad afterwards because Kathryn had taken the first step in her healing.

_Kathryn regrets many things and so do I. But wallowing in the mud of those feelings would be counterproductive and certainly not advance Kathryn's healing. Please, bear with her in her journey to freedom and restoration for it is a difficult road for her._

_Her story was not an easy one to tell. Perhaps because of our own unique relationship forged on Voyager, she could relate to me all those traumas, the accident, the birth of Andrew. It has left her exhausted._

She'd wept bitterly when s recounted to him the details of Andrew's birth. Dorron had taken her from the scene of the shuttle crash, taken her commbadge and flung it away from her. She'd had no time to react, for she'd suffered some injuries and had been too dazed to realise that she'd been dragged into another shuttle with other women and taken away from there.

Dorron raped her repeatedly as, unable to understand his language, she screamed that he stop. It took her a long time to realise that rescue was never going to come, that she was alone, that her baby growing inside her had survived the crash, survived the assaults. Dorron had marked her for himself, but left her alone when her belly swelled in the fullness of child.

Chakotay thought how Kathryn told him what happened. Her eyes had been dry, emotionless. A woman called Wadra tended to the birth. They were on the Vodar, in a dank cabin with only mattresses on the floor, stinking blankets, the smell of urine, faeces, blood.

"I loved my baby from the minute he was born, Chakotay. I named him Andrew. I remember how I cried your name, to tell them you were Andrew's father. But then Dorron used the memory eraser on me again. I knew nothing after that. But I remember now that he had done it to make me forget more and more."

"There were times you could break through the fog of memory loss?" he asked.

"Yes, and somehow Wadra, who never left my side, always knew when those moments happened. Then she'd bring Dorron to me, to inject me again. Sometimes I tried to hold on to the memory long enough, to treasure it, you know?"

"Let me guess, they were of Voyager."

"Standing on the bridge, you in your Maquis gear, coming between me and Torres. At the time I couldn't understand it. Just fleeting images. There was the one of New Earth, me in a blue dress, laughing at some joke you'd made…that I remembered. It puzzled me, always got me thinking that I must have had a different life before I danced for clients."

_She had moments of clarity during the three years. Then she remembered those close to her, family, friends, me, images of events on Voyager. Every time it happened, she'd be injected by the man who 'bought' her after Wentworth died. As time went by, it became harder for her to experience those clear moments as the drugs became too invasive. I found her just in time, because by that time she was on the point of not remembering anything at all, even when the drugs wore off naturally. Thanks to our EMH, who has performed a miracle or two._

Miracles? On another day she'd spoken to him in a storm of tears and self-recrimination. It was all her fault that those things happened to her. She remembered how she entertained aliens, dancing for them then having sex with them, enjoying it because her body had been so primed to give pleasure. She'd told him how she'd coax her clients, whipping them into sexual frenzies. She had clear memories of what she'd done, even when Dorron would punish her body after she'd been with her clients.

"You don't know! You don't know what I've done! We fucked all night! I carry three years of shame with me, Chakotay!"

"That was not you - "

"You think?" she'd screamed at him while she clawed at his chest, trying to find purchase and shaking him. "I can never forget, understand? You keep telling me I was a victim, so why did I enjoy what I did? Why?"

She was incoherent with fury and humiliation, screaming that her body was never hers, then that she liked to fuck whoever wanted it. He'd simply pulled her close to him, holding her tightly so that she couldn't fight before letting her go instantly when she started screaming, saying that's what they had done to her. Dorron had held her down so that the first alien could violate her, so that he himself could sink his flesh into her and imprison her for hours while she either wept with anger, or wept with shame, or screamed in the helpless abandon of an orgasm.

"Listen to me," he told her, "you are free, you hear me? Your rage is your right. It's okay. I am here." His voice had been soft, comforting, and as he whispered to her endearments of long ago, that she'd once thought was lost forever, the rage left her slowly.

"Thank you, Chakotay," she told him late that night in her quarters. She'd put Andrew to bed, he'd read his son a little story and soon the child was sleeping.

"You're getting better, Kathryn, even if you don't believe it right at the moment. The woman I see before me now is a far cry from the woman I saw that night in the Glitter Pit."

"There are other women who need saving," she'd said quietly.

"I know. Part of my work has been to expose the practice. Don't worry, on our way home we'll save them."

"You don't know how mad I can get - "

"Oh, I've seen it. I've saved Betsy for you."

"You have? Betsy is alive? And well?"

"Definitely. Now, here's the work Starfleet has ordered me to give you. Once they knew you were safe, it was sent via subspace."

He'd given her the PADD he'd brought with him. She'd studied it, nodded, made satisfying sounds as if her brain at last flexed itself into scientific mode. Then her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

"I missed this," she said, and he knew exactly what she meant by that.

_Kathryn has now successfully integrated the new warp drive for the New Liberty. Even though we can now cut our journey by half, Kathryn needs time - a lot of it - to adjust, to be a mother, to be a scientist, to be an officer, a daughter and sister. We will be visiting homeworlds for shore leave, to see sunrises and sunsets, rescue women still listed as missing. I have found important leads and will follow them up before we return to the Alpha Quadrant._

_My best regards to everyone._

_Captain Chakotay_

*************

Andrew sat at a low table eating his cereal. He liked corn flakes which Kathryn had replicated. She smiled, thinking how quickly her son had become accustomed to eating Earth food, although he still liked to eat Krepekean food on which he was raised on the vodar. Andrew drew the line at broccoli, though, telling her he wouldn't eat trees.

A new morning dawned. Soon Wadra would arrive to take Andrew to the holodeck to entertain him there. Linnea would be with the EMH, learning medical practice. The EMH spoke very highly of her progress,  absorbing new information very quickly.

"Finished?" Kathryn asked as she bent down next to her son.

He held up his bowl like he'd won a tennis match. "Finished!"

"Oh, goody. Here's Wadra now. She'll take you to play with Flotter and Treevis."

"And swimming?"

"You will not flood the holodeck, son, but Papa is going to teach you today."

"Swim! Swim! Swim!" Andrew crowed and Kathryn laughed. She had never seen her son so exuberant, so full of life.

Wadra had entered after knocking softly and Kathryn indicated she come in. There was still apprehension in Wadra's eyes but Kathryn smiled at her. She could see the older woman visibly relaxing. Andrew left readily with Wadra, actually skipping alongside her as they left her quarters. Breathing a big sigh of relief, Kathryn showered first. She had not eaten yet and had only replicated a cup of coffee, with which she closed her eyes as she inhaled its pungent aroma. She was not used to the beverage anymore.

 _I should transfer my loyalty to Earl Grey_ , she thought.

Half an hour later she stood in front of her wardrobe.

"Your uniform is hanging in there," Chakotay'd told her on the first day when he brought her to the New Liberty. "I can see it will fit you."

Now she opened the cupboard and took out the uniform. She'd last worn it the day she married Daryl. Sighing, she dressed, feeling the way the jacket and pants hugged her body, caressed her skin like a long lost daughter.

In the mirror she stared at her reflection. For a moment a feeling of sorrow threatened to overwhelm her. Wiping furiously at the tears that rolled down her cheek, she turned towards her bed. Then she picked up her commbadge and pinned it to her jacket.

She went back to the mirror like one who wanted to emphasise her new yet old identity and smoothed down her pants.

"Hello, Kathryn," she said to her image. "Welcome back."

Minutes later, Kathryn made her way to the bridge. Chakotay piloted during Gamma shift. He needed a few hours’ sleep but always seemed wide awake. She would relieve him for a while. They had fallen into an impromptu routine and the EMH was roped in to pilot as well, a job he'd said he didn't mind as long as they didn't collide with a meteor or two. She was excited, her heart suddenly beating faster. Chakotay had been at pains not to touch her more than was necessary and it baffled her somewhat. She knew him, even intimately, but he was like a stranger-friend now, just there to help her as if they hadn't experienced supernovas together.

She loved him. She simply had to tell him that!

Sighing, she entered the bridge and when Chakotay, in Maquis gear and long hair caught in a ponytail, swung round to look at her, his eyes widened.

"Wow!"

"Haven't been in uniform for years. It feels good. I'll wear it every day, if you don't mind - "

"Mind? You're making me feel guilty not doing the same!"

"Don't worry. This is for me, to feel Starfleet again," she said as Chakotay rose and made way for her to take the conn.

"Fair enough," he responded. "Just don't get too…Starfleet." 

His hand rested on her shoulder, caressing it lightly. Startled, Kathryn glanced up at him, then where his hand rested. Chakotay suddenly bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. She inhaled his musk, a first sensation of acute awareness of his maleness. Lips that touched hers quivered slightly, though they were warm and soft. A sliver of pleasure rippled through her and flooded her senses as she returned the kiss, unable to resist the caress. He cupped her cheek, the kiss lingering for a few seconds before he finally broke contact.

"Chakotay…" Her voice was a whisper, tremulous, asking without asking as she gazed into his eyes, feeling a little bereft as his hand slid away from her cheek.

He stared long at her, as if he were turning over a wondrous idea in his head, deciding on whether to share it with her. Chakotay took a deep breath and her heart hammered as she waited for his response. 

"On the morning Seven of Nine broke it off with me," he said in a voice thick with emotion, "that was the day you married Wentworth…"

Then Chakotay turned abruptly and left the bridge.

*************

END CHAPTER 14


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay reflects on that kiss [at the end of chapter 14]. Later he does something... for her...

* * *

CHAPTER 15 

Kathryn sat in the chair staring out the viewscreen, stunned by what had just happened. Her entire body trembled in the aftermath of Chakotay's kiss. For several minutes she sat there, one hand against her cheek and the other on the panels in front of her.

She  inhaled him, she thought with wonder. Old, forgotten memories of sitting next to him on Voyager's bridge, dinner in her quarters or his, standing side by side behind Tom Paris at the conn, and always, always she'd been aware of his musk. So many times he'd looked at her, a question and expectation in his eyes after she'd stared a tad too long at him.

Now he’d kissed her. She’d felt his lips against her hair, her forehead, her cheek during those periods when she'd told him her story, but those touches were to comfort her, to offer solace. Not like what had just happened. His lips had burned against hers and caused blinding flashes as she responded.

She had been so stunted the last three years because men were men and clients were clients. They never kissed. Her orgasms and strong sexual reactions were engineered and had excluded every known emotion and touch such as kindness, compassion, concern, sympathy, love.

She had loved Chakotay, probably from those first days on Voyager, but sublimated her feelings for him by placing her most pressing duties first. She had made no excuse for being an officer of the Federation before allowing herself to express affection that would lead to love, intimacy, marriage, children. While she withheld those expressions from him, even rejected him when once he asked her for a closeness she was not prepared to share, she had never denied how she felt about Chakotay.

His image had been what she'd seen time after time during the three years when she'd experienced moments of clarity, of brief visitations to her past, to linger on those memories and feed off them.

Only Chakotay.

The heat rose in her and spread through her body, a throbbing between her thighs that caused her to frown heavily. Chakotay did that just by kissing her? Just by a simple caress? She knew her body was completely clear of the pheromones Dorron had so callously injected into her. There were absolutely no traces of that drug, only what was naturally occurring in her own body.

Kathryn gazed open-mouthed at the space in front of her, maneuvering the vessel carefully to avoid a small asteroid field that had suddenly appeared.

_I love him…_

But it was his parting words that shocked her, that lingered as she piloted the ship through the sector.

_"On the morning Seven of Nine broke it off with me," he said in a voice thick with emotion, "that was the day you married Wentworth…"_

Chakotay had sounded so sad, sadder than she'd ever seen him. What a terrible coincidence for them both - that he'd split up with Seven of Nine and she, Kathryn, marry Daryl Wentworth. Now she knew in any case that Seven was no longer in Chakotay's life, hadn't been in it for three years.

To learn that on the same day she married Daryl… Kathryn wondered if those were the regrets he'd spoken of, that he should have waited for her. Sighing, she relegated those negative thoughts to the back of her mind.

They had to go forward, particularly now that he was in her son's life. Andrew loved him to distraction already. They looked so alike her heart sometimes skipped a beat just seeing them together. And she wanted Chakotay to be a part of Andrew's life and hers, if he wished. She smiled gently. His kiss told her he wanted her still; it told her how he'd had to control himself not to touch her in ways that mimicked what Daryl and her captors had done.

Kathryn settled in and focused on piloting the New Liberty. Thoughts of home assailed her now, and how her family would feel about the life she'd led. She wasn't ready yet to communicate via subspace, but it would happen soon, now that she had unburdened herself on Chakotay's shoulder. He was a good man and she knew in her heart of hearts that he would never fail her.

She entered the new coordinates Chakotay had given her. They were heading for the planet Krepek which was the homeworld of Dorron. Dorron, she decided, determinedly biting her lip, was the past for her. But Linnea and Wadra were of the same species. Although they'd indicated that they wanted to travel with them to Earth, Kathryn knew they'd be the only representatives of their race in Federation space. They needed to finalise their decisions, although, after having heard and knowing something of what Wadra had been subjected to at the hands of her own nephew, she would find it easier to leave and remain in Kathryn's employ to care for Andrew.

Strange that she herself didn't feel that great an urgency to return home.

*********************

Chakotay stalked off the bridge and headed for his quarters. He wanted to lie down, close his eyes, forget about the kiss. It was impulsive and mad, crazy to touch her like that. He should have known better. Kathryn was still a long way from healing, her emotional scars permanent reminders of her ordeal the last three years.

He couldn't resist her fragrance, her nearness when they changed shifts. She'd brushed gently past him, and it was enough to send him practically over the edge. He hungered for her, had been in that state for so long but had to suppress it from the moment he'd rescued her. He'd been afraid to cause her more pain and distress.

How could he convince her that he loved her, that he could never hurt a hair on her head? Did she know what it cost him to remain in control of his emotions, not to scare her off? From the moment he'd seen her in Kiosk 7, he'd known that he had to be the rescuer and nothing more. He'd played that role to perfection, never overstepping his boundaries so that Kathryn could rebuild her life without any fear that her rescuer might have ulterior motives. Men Kathryn had thought were on her side betrayed her and her constant prayer for three years had been that someone would come and liberate her. How could he even think of touching her and doing things to her that might remind her men were cowards in the extreme?

Now Kathryn had regained all her memories and it had given him no greater joy than the moments she'd looked at him with full recognition in her eyes. He'd withheld telling her about Seven of Nine, maybe because he didn't want to overwhelm her with too much information.

He loved her. He wanted to touch her, he wanted to make love to her, he wanted to be intimate and caress her without having to engage that click in his head that would shut off all emotion.

Chakotay could still feel the softness of her lips moving under his, her smell that all but intoxicated him and drove him mad. He had lost it on the bridge. He didn't want to.

And then he had to tell her about the coincidence of her wedding day and Seven of Nine leaving him! It was a low blow, a weapon he'd grabbed to fight a losing battle.

"I have got to do my job. That is my duty," he muttered under his breath as he entered his cabin. He took a quick shower, ate something and then hit the pillows.

"I must see the doctor later," he was still murmuring before he tumbled into sleep.

*************** 

Later during the day Chakotay, refreshed after having slept a few hours, headed for the sick bay. Kathryn would have engaged autopilot and be busy in the small engineering room doing maintenance on the ship's warp core. 

"Would you need assistance? Linnea, perhaps?" he'd asked the previous night during their dinner time.

"No, not necessary. I can handle it. Well, if you hear a few well chosen cuss words, that would be me emulating B'Elanna."

"Please don't break my nose!"

Kathryn had chuckled, then became serious. "B'Elanna… How are they, Chakotay? Little Miral, my goddaughter?"

"To be honest? After I left Federation space, I received very few updates. Miral is three years old, I guess. That reminds me…"  He'd stilled at his words, suddenly remembering something.

"What is it?" she'd asked. Then she grimaced as she swallowed the last gulp of coffee. "Not used to this anymore. Tea next time."

"Uh, nothing much," he'd replied, not wanting to share his ideas immediately. He was certain she herself had not given it any thought. He'd have to speak to the EMH in the morning.

Now, as he approached the sick bay, he'd have to dismiss Linnea if she was busy with one of her lessons. What he had in mind would certainly settle a few doubts and give Kathryn greater peace of mind.

He stepped inside, relieved to note that Linnea was not there. "Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram."

"Please state - " the EMH began. "Oh, it's you, Captain. How is Admiral Janeway?"

"Beating up my warp core? Heard some loud cussing and banging of spanners. She's making the ship go faster."

"Well, it's good to hear she is finding her equilibrium. Now, anything I can do for you

"Yes, indeed there is, though nothing to do with my state of health - "

"I can see that. Does the Admiral know how many bones I've reset, concussions I've eased, blood clots I've removed, operations I've conducted on you during the last three years?"

"No, and don't tell her. She'll read about it anyway. She is privy to the ship's official logs now, and reading through them."

"Your business - "

"Oh, yes. Doc, uh, the day before Voyager entered Earth's orbit just over three years ago - "

"I recall. I am a computer, after all."

"Yes, that night Kathryn and I, uh…spent the night together."

"Ah, I know what you want me to do. Good," the EMH smirked as he walked to his computer console.

"You have the Vodar's logs on that PADD?"

Chakotay nodded as he handed the EMH the device, watching silently as the doctor transferred data to the computer. After several uhms and ahs, the EMH finally looked up.

"There. Done."

"Thank you, Doc," Chakotay said as he stared at the readout on the PADD, smiling to himself. Then he nodded before deactivating the EMH.

"I'll have to duck a spanner or two in engineering…" he murmured as he left sick bay.

************* 

Kathryn swore, then licked her pinkie as she struck something against her hand. She'd discovered that the New Liberty's warp core needed maintenance work as well as reconciling it with the new specs of the hyperdrive.

"Good thing they sent the specs," she muttered under her breath. "I should thank my team for working on it." 

She remembered how often she'd helped B'Elanna with repair work on Voyager, how she always thrived in a science environment. She missed them all, not just her senior officers, but the lower decks crew whose work, energy, focus and discipline had been so crucial in getting Voyager home. She'd never had time to thank them all properly, she mused. Daryl had appropriated her that very night and after that practically never left her side.

She thought of Daryl, the husband who never really was a husband. He'd done so many things wrong and much of what he'd done, not only to her, but other women, was what she belatedly realised was a character flaw. Kathryn shook her head. Now, more than three years later, she could think of him and not wish for the earth to open up beneath her. How some men hid their failings beneath a polished exterior! Never in a thousand years would she have expected that of him, a man who'd risen speedily through the ranks to vice-admiral.

Admiral Paris had tried to warn her and she'd dismissed his concerns. But did they know to what lengths Daryl had gone to procure women? Her? And that money and power always lay at the heart of such barbaric acts and behaviour?

The last week or so, Chakotay had been her anchor, the solid rock against which she could hurl her raging waves of grief, shame and fury. It felt good, so good just to lean on him, like she had done so many times in the past, like she'd missed so much during her years of captivity. Even as she'd lost her memory and was dazed most of the time, she'd yearned fervently for a saviour who could pick her and Andrew up, lift them on his giant wings and fly away to freedom.

Another bang on her finger brought her back to the present, cussing as she sucked on her pinkie again.

"Thank goodness this is done. New Liberty is ready to engage warp 9.975. And you can thank me later, Chakotay," she muttered as realised he had entered. Bent as low as she'd been she saw only his long boot-clad legs.

Very carefully she got up from under the console and raised herself to her full height, just below his shoulder, spanner in one hand, the other smoothing her uniform.

"Are you spying on me?" she asked, her mouth lifting at the corner.

"No, I came to give you this." 

She took the PADD from him. The smile she felt growing suddenly gone as she saw how serious he appeared.

*

He heard her swearing even before he saw her, reminding him of the many times he'd heard Torres invoke every Klingon profanity whenever he entered engineering. Kathryn was a scientist and just as much given to expressing her ire in no uncertain terms when things didn't go her way.

Now she stood in front of him and he was a little apprehensive. He had no idea how she would react, especially as the idea had never come up since her rescue.  She'd be glad, eventually, he supposed. But anything involving her child or her tribulations brought with it some reflection that caused her extreme distress.

Sighing, he pointed to the PADD she'd taken from him.

"Here?" she asked, putting the hyperspanner down and flicking on the PADD.

"Yes."

So she read the information, her eyes widening. She didn't blink at all, her eyes remaining open, growing moist.

Then Kathryn gave a sob, tears filling her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She gazed up at him and his heart wanted to break at the array of emotions that battled for control. Her brows knitted together as she tried to stem the flow of tears.

"Andrew's birthday is on the tenth of August?"

"As accurately as our EMH could analyse from the data I've given him - "

"From - from our night when we made love?"

"The only night, Kathryn."

"Yes…"

"The doctor used Dorron's logs pertaining to your capture and the day you gave birth. There were certain markers he used. Tenth of August it is, Kathryn."

"I have never given it any thought, just knew - " She began crying, but continued, "I lost all track of time, of Earth time. Andrew is over two years old, that's what I know, and born more or less in the third quarter of our year. Oh, God! How could I not have thought of it?"

She thought back on that day her son was born. Dorron had left her alone in the last months of her pregnancy. Then one day she'd experienced the most excruciating pains and knew she was going into labour. Wadra had been ordered to stay by her side. For many hours she'd wept, cried out in pain and when her baby finally slipped from her belly with a healthy cry, she'd lain exhausted until Wadra placed the baby against her bosom. _His name is Andrew_ , she remembered saying, and because she'd thought so often of Chakotay in those days, cried out his name in anguish, wishing he'd been there to watch her give  birth to their baby.

Now she gazed at him, unable to hold back all the emotions she was feeling.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn, for what you suffered. Please scroll further down…"

Kathryn frowned but obeyed Chakotay's command. Then she saw pictures of Andrew, from his birth, a tiny baby lying on a blanket, then in her arms as she held him close to her. A picture of her reading to him. Portrait after portrait, some alone, others with her, and little group pictures that included Wadra, Linnea and the other captives. One of the women had taken the time and trouble to photograph Kathryn and Andrew, astonishingly perhaps on Dorron's instruction.

He had been astounded as well when he'd accessed a file in Dorron's logs named simply "Majja". Now he looked at Kathryn who was reliving those darkest hours of her life, to the only thing that gave her joy - the birth of their son.

The PADD slipped from her hands, sailing to the floor before Kathryn hurled herself into his arms. He held her to him, his hand pressing her head close, caressing her hair, murmuring endearments. He couldn't stop himself from inhaling the smell of her hair, triggering memories of their bygone night of passion. He let her cry, a gentle, quiet shedding of tears so different from those stormy times when she'd told him her story.

"Shhh…it's alright, Kathryn. Now we know and can celebrate his next birthday when we're in Indiana."

Her tears stopped eventually. She gave a few soft sobs before standing back to gaze into his eyes.

"I don't doubt that the doctor's finding is accurate, Chakotay. I'm just so happy that there is context in Andrew's life. It was not as if I didn't care, you must understand."

Chakotay nodded solemnly at her words. Of course he understood very well.

"Is there something - ?"

"Yes," she interrupted him, "Andrew was born on my late father's birthday."

Kathryn stepped into his embrace again and boldly kissed him on the lips, allowing the touch to linger. A deep moan escaped from Chakotay as he deepened the kiss, his arms encircling her waist. She melted into him, then suddenly broke contact.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"Hey, don't be, okay? I enjoyed that."

"We have to talk, Chakotay, about Andrew, about raising our son."

He nodded again, then took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "Don't worry, we will. I'm hoping to be included in the process."

"Of course. But, just a little time, okay?"

"Fine. Now, are you ready for some holodeck time together? Velocity?"

"Game on, Captain!"

*************

_Dearest Kathryn_

_You cannot imagine how happy I am to know that you have been rescued. We always knew that you were alive and prayed that you'd be found._

_Captain Chakotay is a noble warrior! He left everything near and dear to him, cut off all ties with everyone when Admirals Paris and Ponsonby sent him to search for you. By that time, Seven of Nine had also broken up with him although she acknowledged to us that their union was never meant to be._

_His only contact with Starfleet was through coded subspace communications with the Admirals who kept him up to date with new developments. He lived  a rogue life but I understand that he wanted it that way in order to go under deep cover to expose the slave trade and save other victims._

_Darling, from Chakotay's communications to us about your rescue, we recognised immediately the nature of your captivity. Please, please know that I understand, that we all love you and hope you'll be back with us soon. Phoebe sends her regards. You will likely hear from Admiral Paris and your stepfather. Tom, B'Elanna, Seven and Harry Kim - they're getting married, you know - will also be sending you messages. We just want you home._

_Please let us know how you are doing and how Andrew is doing!_

_Love_

_Your mother_

_********_

Kathryn stared blankly at the screen for several minutes. It was the first message for her directly. She missed them, missed her mother and the refined gentleman who was her stepfather, missed Phoebe! Indiana! Sighing, she closed the message but remained sitting at her vidcom.

Chakotay had prepared her for messages from home, what they sensed about her captivity, that she needn't be afraid of denunciation or overblown sympathy, that they understood. They were only concerned about her safety and peace of mind, that she had come through her ordeal at least physically unhurt. They'd been worried about her since he'd sent them his original communiqué, loved  her as much as ever, even more. They just wanted her home.

But Kathryn was realistic as she sat mulling over her mother's message. No matter how much they understood or sympathised, she would remember those things forever. Regaining her memories was critical for her, to remember every little detail of the last three years as well as of her entire life. But, the horror of what had happened to her had become part of her new dimension of living. It was impossible to separate them from the good parts of her life. Impossible.

They would always haunt her. She could subjugate them for a while, but at the oddest moments, they would be there to remind her that things had happened to her she wouldn't wish on any person in the universe.

Like last night. She'd just made sure that Andrew was sleeping peacefully. Chakotay had sat with him and told him a story before his eyes began drooping and he finally fell asleep. Then he'd held her close to him, and she sighed when she saw the fleeting apprehension in his eyes.

"I'm not a porcelain doll, Captain," she'd told him in an attempt at humour.

"I know. But I don't want to overstep - "

"Boundaries? I seem to recall I set a few of them myself on Voyager. Chakotay, don't worry! Bad things happened to me, but I didn't break. I won't break. Please, I could do with a few hugs and kisses. Especially the kisses."

Then he'd kissed her, a deep kiss that probed into her mouth. She'd melted into him, her body stirring again, a feeling that was unfamiliar yet so familiar! And she'd rejoiced that she could feel that way after her experiences as a slave. So she'd opened her mouth under his insistence and experienced a sense of drowning so acute that she'd given a cry of ecstasy. Chakotay'd released her instantly.

"No, no…" she urged, "it's okay, Chakotay." Then she'd taken the initiative and drew him back in her arms. "You were my only constant in a sea of debris. Whatever happens in my life, I want you to be a part of it."

"Kathryn," he groaned, "I cannot breathe for thinking about you. I want to make love with you, like that night on Voyager. But, sweetheart, only when you are ready, okay?"

"Fine. When I'm ready."

And she'd thought, _That moment may come sooner than we think…_

But she had been rudely awakened to the reality of her nightmares.

*****************

END CHAPTER 15


	16. Chapter 16

* * *

 

She was in a foul mood the next morning, so much so that Andrew became just as cranky as his mother. She dressed him, gave him breakfast and when he spilled his milk, she slammed the cup down hard on the table.

Andrew started crying, a heartbroken wail that had Kathryn instantly remorseful.

"Oh, honey I'm so sorry. It's okay. Shhh…it's alright," she murmured as she held him. When he stopped crying he started eating, not looking up at her again, seemingly happy that she'd hugged and kissed him.

Later in consultation with Wadra for her duties for the day, her crankiness continued. She was irritable, didn't look the Krepekian woman directly in the eyes, simply handing the child over to her. Andrew was happy enough to go to his child minder and waved his mother goodbye. But Wadra had given her a keen look, so much so that Kathryn's old rancour towards the woman surfaced again. She was snappish, her response short and miserable.

"Is something wrong, Kathryn?" Wadra asked her. "Did you visit the past again?"

She was on the point of offering a biting response, reminding Wadra of her betrayal. In truth, it still gnawed at her.

"No! No… I'm sorry, Wadra. Perhaps I need to see the doctor."

"Doctor cannot cure your anger. You must find that within and speak to it," old Wadra said.

"Good advice. I'll try. I'm sorry about being such a boor this morning."

Then she'd left for engineering where she finalised the test for the hyper drive and routed it to the conn on the bridge. Chakotay was still on duty there. Did the man ever sleep? she wondered.

And then she didn't wonder.

Just when she thought that she had her traumas under control, and Chakotay had openly declared his feelings for her, it happened. Was it during the night? Past the hour of midnight? Closing her eyes Kathryn revisited that scene in her quarters…

********

She couldn't breathe; her throat constricted. She tried to scream, but where was help? Where was salvation?

Daryl's voice, close to her face as she lay on the bunk, her legs spread. Pumped full of drugs, movement was impossible. Why then could she feel what he was doing to her? While she remained aware, even alert, it was only in her mind, for the rest of her body was merely a vessel.

"You're a good fuck tonight. Here, let me hold your leg, so you don't move, see?"

 _I can already not move, you sick bastard!_   The scream, the outrage long gone, replaced by anger and concern for her baby, stuck in her throat. Wordless cries floated about in her head. She wanted to fight back, to tell herself to get up and protect herself and her unborn child. But she couldn't. She had almost lost count of the days spent in the shuttle as Daryl's whore, but she knew it was about two weeks.

"Shhh…" Daryl coaxed. "See, Grol wants to lie here. Just here." Daryl poked two fingers in her vagina, giving a few raw thrusts.

She could hear Grol yanking down his pants, grunting with lust as he stood above her. An alien of indeterminate species, he was huge.

"Don't worry so, his cock is bigger than any human. But I've primed your pussy. Even injected relaxant in there to spread your cunt passage. Show him you can take him."

She moved her head, a slow, laboured action, her eyes beseeching, but Daryl simply grunted his satisfaction.  He pulled her knee up, spread her further. She couldn't feel pain, but knew her breasts were bruised the way Grol's hands had gripped and kneaded them. He'd bitten her, but Daryl had stopped that. Wanted his girl unblemished, he told the alien.

_My baby…_

"Good, Grol, she's all yours."

"Move away, human," Grol demanded. Daryl let her go, her leg falling over the side of the bunk. Another grunt from Grol as he lay over her. She felt his cock, knew that under normal circumstances he would be too big for her. He nudged her opening, and in one swift move he rammed into her. She screamed, at last able to hear herself, feel herself pushed right against the bulkhead. She screamed again, but the alien was rough. He was working her so furiously that she knew she'd be bleeding again. Thrusting, pulling, pushing, loud grunting, stinking breath close to her face, drool all over her that she didn't know whether it was saliva or snot.

_God, help me…_

"Help me!"

Nightmare!

She'd jack-knifed to a sitting position on bed, looked around her startled, her breathing hard, erratic, every intake so painful that tears sprang into her eyes. She was awake! At one point, she’d felt like throwing herself off the bed in order to wake up.

Then she began weeping, a low, hoarse, wild kind of crying as memories of that night flooded back. The drugs, injections to widen her fuck passage, injections to sedate her, injections to prevent her moving about too much, injections that she wouldn’t expel her foetus, then the pheromones.

She remembered climaxing noisily twice even before Grol spilled his alien seed in her. She'd lain there, exhausted, still in the aftermath of her orgasms while her hands had covered her belly. She didn't cry then, she remembered, but waited for the alien to leave before Daryl simply undressed and slipped his rock hard cock into her.

"After all, you are my little wife, fuck whore…" he murmured as he spilled in her minutes later.

After that memory faded a little, she'd gone to her bathroom and taken a shower, allowing the scalding water to wash away the evidence of her nightmare and maybe, just obliterate the memory of it.

But it wasn't working. She felt a sting of tears as the realisation of hard facts hit her - it was proving more difficult to suppress the vile things that had happened to her, to wish away the betrayal of Daryl, husband, a sick individual who sold his own wife not only for perceived wealth, but to satisfy his debauched lust.

She'd hoped, nay, prayed that Daryl's deception would be the end. But Grol wasn't the last alien who assaulted her. Although Daryl's shuttle was fired at by a rogue cartel to whom he apparently owed several women he promised them, her suffering had only just started.

Time after time she'd wished that she'd died with Daryl in that shuttle crash.

Still disturbed by her nightmare - they seemed to be increasingly prurient - Kathryn jerked up from the console she was working at, the full diagnostics completed and headed for the holodeck. In the small tote bag she'd collected, she entered the holodeck and accessed her dance studio programme.

Minute later she was dressed in a diaphanous skirt that lapped around her ankles and a pair of soft ballet pumps.

This time she ordered Leo Delibes's Swanhilda variation from his ballet _Coppélia._

*************

He could simply access the computer to locate Kathryn, but the ship was small and he wanted to collect his thoughts by walking to where he knew he'd find her anyway. Lately she'd used the holodeck as an outlet for her pent-up emotions. He'd seen her one afternoon; she'd danced to Saint-Saëns' _The Swan._ He hadn't wanted to disturb her, but he'd thought her choice of music particularly symbolic.

Kathryn was a swan on the brink of dying, injured to the point of death. But as he'd watched her, she seemed to have brought another element into the choreography, that of resurgence, celebrating her life. He was touched by her dancing, so different from what she had done for close on two years in places like the Glitter Pit.

There had been an aching allure that had ranged through the beauty of her movements as the swan flew, landed, tried to rise up again. Then as if an inner impulse led her, her flight had become a fierce struggle to throw off her burdens.

He'd left the holodeck as quietly as he'd entered.

Kathryn had been dour since breakfast which they took together every morning. She'd hardly spoken, and he'd let it pass, for his own thoughts were on writing to the admirals, to Kathryn's mother, to make arrangements for shore leave on Krepek. If he admitted it to himself, he wasn't in an amicable mood either.

Kathryn worried him.

Sighing, he checked the holodeck status. Again a dancing programme. The music teased him, a familiar melody that Kathryn had played often in her quarters on Voyager. He stood just inside the door watching her.

She used to tell him about the ballet and how she liked to tone herself by dancing. The music came to him, a variation from a Delibes ballet "Coppélia". And again, since he had an idea of the story, it was somewhat symbolic.

Kathryn had been made to dance by Dorron, a doll to which he controlled the strings. He could make her do anything. Now, the new Kathryn's desire was to destroy the idea of the doll that danced to the bidding of her master. By overlapping her own new dance as Swanhilde, she struggled to emerge victorious. It was in the way her arms and body swayed in cadence with the music, toes and feet exquisitely pointed though she wore only ballet pumps.

He knew what she was doing and to a degree she succeeded. Yet he could see it was not enough. One anguished cry and she stopped dancing.

"Computer, halt music."

Then she swung round. Her face appeared animated, anger mixed with resolution mixed with outrage. She was perspiring profusely. She bent down first to retrieve a small towel from her tote bag and began dabbing her face and neck.

"Chakotay? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Easy, when this is such a small ship. Why?"

"You've been irritable all morning, taking it out on Andrew and the women."

"If it's any consolation, I have apologised, especially to my son - "

"Our son, Kathryn."

"Fine. They have forgiven me. Andrew is adorable - "

"Kathryn…"

Why was she prevaricating? he wondered.

"What do you want, Chakotay?" she asked, a little annoyance creeping into her voice.

"To know what's bugging you. You weren't very cordial at breakfast."

Kathryn looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze. Then he stepped closer, surprised when she flinched, moving out of his way. Was her skin suddenly hypersensitive to touch? He hadn't touched her, yet she reacted as if he’d burned her with a branding iron. Chakotay raised his hands in capitulation, stepped back and waited for her to say something.

Kathryn threw down the towel and turned to face him, her lips compressed in anger.

"Fine!" it burst from her. "I dreamed, that's all."

"Care to tell me about it?"

"Believe me, you don't want to know."

He glared at her, suddenly angry. What the hell was she thinking? Did she want pity from him? He sighed, backing down only slightly.

"Kathryn, the past three weeks my shoulder had been good enough for you. What happened now? I was always careful not to touch you before, but now you seem to be repulsed by me. Fine, I'll stay away from you. Just tell me, I'll understand, okay?"

"What do you understand, Chakotay? Hmmm? What?"

The words burst from her with such fire that he almost jumped back from the force of it.

"I understand you've been through hell - "

"You have no idea!"

"Then tell me! Tell me, Kathryn."

"Fine! I dreamed I was being held down. So what else is new here, hmmm? My husband, may his soul rot in hell, was a first class asshole! I was in the shuttle for the six weeks of our marriage, you moron! Six weeks in which he and any other alien took turns in having sex with me. I was almost four months pregnant but that didn't stop them. They made me climax! Every single time! Is that what you wanted to hear? Does it turn you on? Huh?"

He’d asked for it. Kathryn's eyes were ablaze with pent-up fury. He closed his eyes briefly, experiencing a flash of his rescue of Marine Provost, how he caught her rapists, his own injuries which he incurred.  Every woman he rescued, he prayed, brought him closer to Kathryn.

"My nightmares, Chakotay, have brought me a whole new reality. What I experienced will never leave me. Never! Do you understand?"

"I'm sorry, Kathryn."

"And then…then - "

"Then what?"

Suddenly Kathryn reached for him, slapping her palms against his chest. She didn't cry like she had when she'd told him her story. Her eyes, however, were fire red with unshed tears  as she continued her onslaught. He didn't budge from his position.

"What is it, Kathryn?"

He realised it was more than just the nightmare that had unsettled her. That in itself was becoming Kathryn's cross, would remain with her for the rest of her life. There were so many things that threatened to unhinge her, like dealing with family, Starfleet, him.

She banged her fists against him.

"You, Chakotay. You!"

"Me?" he asked, surprised. "What about me?"

Then she stood back, almost at attention, some of the fight leaving her, yet still ready to strike at the least provocation. He had to admire this woman, the bravest woman in any quadrant. Kathryn refused to weep as she had done before, instead drawing from her deepest springs the will to control herself. He wondered what he had to do with Kathryn's nightmare.

"They have ruined me, Chakotay. You have to know that. I kiss you and I want to do more. I know you want to do and be more. But every time I dream, you see, then I'm reminded that I'm not normal. I was Majja, a manufactured doll made to do the bidding of my puppet masters. They controlled every aspect of my life, more so my sex life."

"Kathryn, you know I will never - "

"That's just it. Just now when I danced, I was Swanhilda, the real life person hidden for three years under the Majja-doll. I dream of being me, without the warts and wounds, a healthy body yearning for intimate touching by a man - you - loving me. You did love me once, but you know what, Chakotay?" 

Somewhere an atonal note sounded in his head. He felt a surge of alarm. Was he losing her after all?

"What?" he asked, his voice suddenly filled with dread.

"I know my body is clear of the pheromones. If there is any residue, it will work itself out of my system."

"And?"

"You touch me, Chakotay, your hand a caress against my cheek and I wonder whether I will ever be healed. Those days with Daryl and Dorron, no man has ever touched me with any emotion akin to love or compassion. No one! Sometimes I imagine we're back in your quarters on Voyager on that fateful night, and then I wonder who will be responding to you, Majja or Kathryn?"

"Kathryn, always Kathryn. You have to believe that."

"It's hard, coming back from that. These nightmares take me to square one. I want to move on, but the journey is a difficult one."

Only then did her tears begin rolling down her cheeks. He pulled her gently into his embrace, glad that she didn't fight him. He held her close, allowed her to cry softly until she was spent.

"When we make love one day, Kathryn, believe me, I will know," he vowed.

Kathryn raised her head, her eyes still wet.

"I am not in control of my nightmares." 

Her voice sounded deflated and he couldn't argue with her. She was right. Whatever means she employed in her waking hours to suppress the bad memories and prevent them from causing major upheavals in her life was not working while she was sleeping. Like any human person, their sleep was where they dreamed, where they traversed to happy places and then, inexplicably in many instances, those beautiful dreams turned into their most unwanted horrors.

"I have an idea. Let's go to the doctor."

Kathryn frowned but nodded. She'd trusted Chakotay from that first moment he told her his name in Kiosk 7 and told her he would rescue her. She knew whatever he planned would be good, that he would never let her down. For a moment, a vision of Daryl Wentworth came to her - smiling, promising good things, then the deceit and betrayal that wrenched her very soul. Chakotay was not Daryl by any stretch of the imagination.

"Let's go. Just so you know, I don't want any hyposprays, no injections, okay?"

"Understood, Admiral!"

********** 

Late that night Chakotay worked the Gamma shift. It was quiet on the bridge, with only soft classical music filling the air. He had chosen most of Kathryn's favourite pieces. A Chopin nocturne was playing and he gave  a sigh of satisfaction listening to the strains that sounded like water droplets. In the morning, they would reach the orbit of Krepek and remain there until he could organise more crew for the New Liberty.

Against his chest, his commbadge made very light pulsing sounds. He listened to it, the beautiful nocturne briefly shut out. A rhythmical low thudding that reassured him everything was fine in Kathryn's cabin.

Earlier he'd suggested they visit the EMH. He smiled to himself when they entered the sick bay, Kathryn still wondering what he had planned.

"Only if you are okay with it," he told her after he'd explained his idea to the EMH.

"I am. It is something I've wanted to do with Andrew but it was never possible. I always worried about him."

"Good," said the EMH, rummaging through his drawers where he stashed working devices that could be calibrated to pick up breathing patterns if close to the sleeper. Then he took Chakotay's commbadge and calibrated it to the frequencies emitted by the transponder once Kathryn was sleeping.

"This way you can rest and be assured that Chakotay will detect when your breathing pattern becomes erratic. He will in fact hear when you are choking - "

"You want me to be almost dead when Chakotay arrives," she responded laconically. Then they'd burst out laughing because she sounded to him exactly like the Kathryn of Voyager.

He was relieved when Kathryn had retired for bed after seeing to Andrew and reading him a story. Chakotay remained awed at how quickly their son grasped everything; he had a great memory, especially when it came to reminding him that Papa had only read the story halfway the previous night. He was glad to see how well Andrew progressed, how close he was to his mother.

Kathryn's breathing was even with no hint of any disturbance. He settled in his chair, gazed at the viewscreen, and fell into musing about their days on Voyager.

************

The next morning Kathryn was on duty on the bridge. They'd shared breakfast once again and she'd apologised for her poor behaviour the previous day. Andrew had been running all over the ship with an out of breath Wadra following him everywhere. That was until they stopped her and told her only the bridge was out of bounds for their son. She could let him run. Andrew had never set foot on terra firma and the sooner they could all enjoy shore leave the better.

Andrew was happy, she thought with awe. Happier than she had ever seen him - an ebullient child who was keenly inquisitive about things. He was more spontaneous when he hugged her or Chakotay, laughed when Chakotay sometimes hoisted him on his broad shoulders.

Yes, her son was happy.

She'd slept fitfully through the night and knew it was brought on by the assurance that Chakotay was ready to react when she had her next nightmare.

"I surely hope it doesn't happen soon," she muttered to herself. They would be in Krepek's orbit within hours, enough time for Chakotay to get in some well earned sleep and be rested when they arrived. She took a deep breath and prepared for her communication to the Alpha Quadrant, Earth.

************

**Alpha Quadrant - Indiana - communication to Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby**

_Hi, Mom_

_As you can see, I am alive and well. I have prayed often for this day so I could tell you that I miss you all, that I love you. I have regained all my lost memories of the past three years. I know Chakotay has been in contact with you and that he apprised you of the circumstances of my captivity. I need not explain further as I'm sure you know what I mean._

_It has not been a happy time for me, I can tell you that. There has been much deceit and betrayal, and the man whom I thought my husband was at the forefront of it all. I remember the good and the bad, Mom. I have told Chakotay the whole sordid story of how it began with Daryl and ended in the death of the man who held me captive. Within all that happened to me, my little boy was born. I remembered to name him Andrew and that I called out Chakotay's name. After that I was repeatedly injected with memory erasing drugs._

_Anyway, Andrew is adorable, and he loves Chakotay to pieces. Chakotay has done remarkable work, Mom. Let Admirals Paris and Ponsonby know, okay? Chakotay also had the EMH determine Andrew's exact date of birth, and do you know what? It's on Dad's birthday, August 10. I was so overwhelmed I cried, because he also showed me pictures of Andrew taken by the women in our groups, of Andrew days after he was born to the present._

_I am happy to be free at last, happy to be coming home. I know it will not be easy to get past my life in this Quadrant as a sex slave, Mother, but Chakotay has assured me that my family will stand by me all the way, that I can count one hundred percent on their love and support. I owe him so much, so much! You should have seen him the day he rescued me and three other women. He reminded me so of our heady days on Voyager when we fought side by side to counter a collective evil. I must have blinked once or twice, but in that time my captor was alive and the next moment dead._

_I am under no illusion that healing will happen suddenly within days or weeks. The memories of what was done to me will be with me for the rest of my life. They aren't good memories, never good! They are vile, distasteful, filled with the shame and humiliation of what I became. Please do bear with me in my time of rehabilitation. I am experiencing nightmares which are very severe. Chakotay has been a wonderful help making life easier for me on board the ship. Just like in the old days on Voyager when he wanted to do so many things for me._

_This time round I don't object, Mom, for I know now what I threw away on Voyager when he always tried to be my protector. I shall regret that forever._

_Anyway, I don't have much time left for this subspace message, but it comes with pictures of Andrew after I sign off._

_We'll all be seeing you soon._

_Love, Kathryn_

******************

END CHAPTER 16


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

 

Krepek was a planet almost the size of Earth, with many Earth-like features, although it had two moons. The second of only five planets in its solar system, the planet had been wracked by constant attacks from its neighbouring world in recent years in what they'd learned was an ongoing thousand year conflict.

Krepekeans and the Rodarans were two races very alike in appearance. Rodar was an aggressive race where Krepekeans led a more peaceful existence. After an out and out war between the two planets, almost the entire northern hemisphere of Krepek was laid to waste during the great purge. Many millions died during this final conflict, with Rodar ultimately leaving the decimated world alone since those resources they desired were after all not suitable to adapt to their own planet.

As a result of the great purge, many Krepekeans from the southern hemisphere had fled and settled on other worlds in other systems. Those had later returned to rehabilitate their world, much like the conflicts in the Federation space's Demilitarised Zone where Dorvan was still undergoing reconstruction after the Cardassian purge.

Chakotay thought how alike the nature of men were in worlds far from the Alpha Quadrant. In every aspect of their lives, things like rule of law, culture, spirituality, practice of ethics, a moral code, a general respect for person, property and social interaction were similar to what every upstanding citizen of the Federation enjoyed.

Krepek was no different. It spawned great men and it had spawned a man like Dorron, one of its least admired citizens. During the years of conflict with Rodar, Dorron's mother lived as a sex worker, servicing Rodarans on vessels that orbited their planet. He was raised by her on one of those vessels until a kind relative had taken him away and brought him back to Krepek. He had grown up, his mind warped by the things he'd witnessed and experienced with his mother on the Rodaran ships. The boy turned into a man who had no moral centre and women became to him what his mother had been to the Rodarans. Still, Chakotay thought, there was no excuse for a man like Dorron.

They were in the first settlement on the northern hemisphere where major reconstruction was taking place. Representing the United Federation of Planets, he'd been involved in talks with Krepek's First Minister. The case of Dorron had been put before him, and not surprisingly, they had taken a very bleak view of what Dorron had done up until his death. The Ministry made it clear that had he lived and been brought to justice, he would have faced the death penalty and been executed.

When they'd arrived on Krepek, Chakotay had sensed Kathryn's apprehension.

"I know you'll be seeing Krepekean males who will remind you of that crazy bastard. Just remember I'll be with you and you can hold my hand, okay?" he'd told her in an attempt at levity.

She'd looked at him, her eyes narrowing in the way he remembered so well, her mouth curving at the corner. A familiar burn welled in his chest whenever she looked at him like that, the shortness of breath that followed it, the joy in knowing that for a while at least, she could put her trauma aside and be the Kathryn of their happier days. She'd punched his arm playfully and he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat.

"You really enjoy this role, don't you?" she said.

"I don't see you objecting too much. There I was, ready to do battle with you not wanting me to do things for you. You've taken the wind out of my sails - "

"Chakotay," she cut in, the playful tone gone, "I used to throw that in your face so often on Voyager. Then my three years of hell happened. I don't want to have new regrets, you know? I always did like that you did things for me, that you wanted to protect me with your life even, only I was too damned stubborn and - "

"Hey, smile again, please?" he'd asked when her eyes clouded. A watery smile followed.

"But now, really, I enjoy what you do for me."

"Come," he'd said, holding his arm so she could hook hers through it, "we have a few important officials to see."

After that, the mood lifted and they could converse happily about their journey home, about raising little Andrew, meeting her family, meeting his sister. They passed a few Krepekean men and to Kathryn's credit she greeted them with a smile and a nod of her head, not once flinching at the sight of them. They'd taken accommodation in a house large enough for their entire group, in a recently completed settlement. There were playing areas for the new generation of Krepekean children growing up in the northern hemisphere, recreational areas for adults that included gyms, a natural spring around which were built restaurants, bars, other entertainment they hadn't yet explored.

The planet's technology was not as advanced as that of Earth and the Federation. They did not possess transporter and replicator technology, though their weapons and weapons systems were adequate. As a peaceful race, they worshipped several deities, something he had not seen either Linnea or Wadra do on board. They were free, however, to meditate according to their customs.

Krepekean food had not been a problem for Kathryn, Andrew and the two women. Kathryn had become accustomed to eating Krepekean cuisine, and so had Andrew. While they were planetside, they actually enjoyed some of the local dishes offered by restaurants all over the new development.

Andrew had stumbled when they'd disembarked from the New Liberty two kilometres away from the settlement where landing pads for shuttles and small vessels were located. The boy had never set foot on firm ground before and had begun to cry when he fell, got up, took a few steps and stumbled again. Kathryn had bent down and hugged Andrew, then took his hand and encouraged him to continue walking. They couldn't laugh about it even when tempted to because it rammed home once again how critical Kathryn's plight had been on the Vodar. He hoped to help raise their son in Indiana, to provide a stable environment free of the negative elements to which the child been exposed.

They were enjoying a few peaceful days on Krepek, with Wadra and Linnea having gone off to find relatives and to recruit persons who could crew for them. Kathryn had taken Andrew into the house to nap and chose to nap with him. Chakotay smiled to himself. Didn't his father and mother always do that with them as little kids? He had been the hardest to nap in the afternoons. His father's contrary, always so obtinate.

He needed the break as well since he'd spent most of last night and all morning with vital maintenance work on the New Liberty. Sighing, his eyes almost closing, he remembered thinking they'd better get at least four more people to help crew his ship. They'd have to make it all the way to Federation space, still so far away…

*************** 

Wadra and Linnea had parted ways at the transports taking them in different directions. From the settlement consulate, Wadra had received information about family members still alive, but near Krepek's equator. Chakotay had given them each the monetary equivalent of one latinum bar so traveling was easy for her. She wondered whether they still knew her.

Her sister, the eldest of their family, was still alive, but Wadra was unsure how she would be received. She had not let them know she was coming, and hadn't been on Krepek for years. She had been abducted by Dorron, her own blood nephew, to take care of the strange looking woman he'd brought with him and whom he called Majja.

Wadra sighed. Dorron was dead now and she was glad that Chakotay had killed him in cold blood. Because she had taken care of Dorron when he was still a young boy who'd been taken away from Kuda and brought back to his father, her nephew had ordered her to look after the stranger. Now all Wadra wanted was to make peace with her sister. She knew her sister had still been alive when Dorron had taken Wadra on his ship to watch over Majja.

She felt some apprehension, wondering how her Riga would receive her.

In a small town close to where she had disembarked from the shuttle, Wadra made her way through the streets along a canal to an enclosure, a small central park with houses surrounding it. Barzek town had not changed, she realised as she headed for a house in the corner.

As she approached her old family home, she noticed a movement at the window. At the door she knocked, even though it was the house in which her mother had raised her two daughters and a son - Dorron's father.

Wadra waited only a few seconds before the door opened. A woman stood there, her hair pulled into a knot, her ridges full of wrinkles. But her eyes were slate grey, a steely, angry look in them.

"You!" Riga spat at her in a voice that seethed with anger.

Wadra frowned before shock set in. She had endured many things in her life. Her husband and their brother had both been killed during the purge. Dorron had come and forced her to look after a stranger who had been with child. Dorron had raped her repeatedly to force her to comply to his rules. She had seen a young woman and other women beaten, assaulted, degraded and wanted him to return them to their families, especially Majja who was pregnant. What did she get for her concerns? A man she had raised, a blood relative, her brother's son who touched her without any sense of decorum and morals. That was her life. If she had sinned, that was her reward. On the New Liberty Chakotay had wanted to end her life, so angry had he been because she betrayed them all. And oh, how she wanted to die then!

She had counted on Riga to care about her. They were sisters, were they not? Sired by the same man and birthed by the same woman. Although they were born three sun turns apart, they could very well have been born as twins, so alike they were. Always, as children growing up, people had thought that she and Riga were twins. Like most siblings they played, fought, argued and by bed time they were friends again. Wadra closed her eyes as thoughts of happier days on Krepek assailed her. She, Riga and Baxen who married Kuda, Dorron's mother.

Wadra opened her eyes and looked at her sister. Riga's anger was palpable, caught on the air that flowed between them.

"I have missed you, my sister," said Wadra.

"You slut!" Riga bit out, pointing a finger at her sister. "You would lie with you own kin! You are the lowest of the low!"

Wadra turned ice cold. What had Dorron told Riga? What did people know? That his aunt was just like his mother who danced and lay with strangers?

"What has Dorron told you?" Wadra asked. She was still standing outside the house, Riga framed in the doorway like a colossus, her posture forbidding.

"Enough to know that my own sister, his aunt, was no better than his mother! Whore! Leave!"

Riga trembled with rage, with old, unfounded hatred. Wadra knew it was not only Dorron's deviant behaviour that had prompted her sister's outburst.

"Dorron is dead, Riga. But that is not why you hate me. I thought that the years might have softened you, but I was mistaken. I married the man you wanted above all else. He chose me, I cannot help that. It happened long ago and Elia is now dead. Hate has corroded you, my sister."

"Leave. You are not welcome here, Wadra."

Wadra looked at her sister, a long studied gaze. Riga lived and fed off her rancour. She had met Elia first but Elia fell in love and married Wadra. They had no other relatives, with Dorron also dead now. She thought how, when she left here, Riga would remain and continue to live her lonely existence, still angry at the world.

Riga had made her decision to leave Krepek easier. Wadra had been undecided when they touched down on her homeworld, but now she had become steadfast in her decision to leave and be with her new friends. They were not so much her friends, rather a family that had been forged even though there had been so much hardship, even though she had betrayed Majja who was really Kathryn Janeway. Kathryn had forgiven her and so had Chakotay. She sensed an innate trust in the great warrior whom, she heard, had slain Dorron with one swipe of his dagger.

What did her sister have? Nothing, not even a shred of forgiveness. She would remain alone while Wadra would leave and make another world her home with people who had become family to her. She thought of young Andrew who loved her and Kathryn whose eyes were always kind.

"Thank you, Riga. I know you will not be concerned about me, but I bid you farewell."

Then Wadra turned away quietly, a sigh of relief escaping her now that she had finally decided that Earth in the Alpha Quadrant would be her new home.

***********

In the Academy of Learning in the First City of Krepek, Linnea Limos sat in a spacious room used for lectures. Next to her was the Director of the Academy who appeared quite intrigued after she had explained her mission to him.

Krepek's northern hemisphere had been decimated by the purge. Most able bodied men had given their lives defending the planet. Her lover and three brothers had died during the conflict. Their deaths had left her vulnerable. That had been the time Dorron played on her sympathies, homed in on her loneliness and offered her free flight and food away from Krepek. She didn't want to leave until he forcibly abducted her. Sighing, she put those thoughts behind her and gazed at the three young cadets in front of her. Two boys and one girl.

She'd explained her mission to them, the Academy's top students who had been only children during the purge and were now strapping teens.

"Do you understand that you will settle on a homeworld very far from Krepek?" Linnea asked.

"We have no parents, Linnea Limos. We are without any kin, and those that are here are too far removed to care. We lean on one another as friends," said the one boy.

"We wish to be of service to you and Captain Chakotay and Admiral Janeway," said the girl.

"I can assure you that Captain Chakotay is a warrior whom I trust. I have outlined to you the purpose of my mission here. There is no reason why you cannot return to Krepek once we have reached Captain Chakotay's homeworld.

The girl raised her hand. "Please, Linnea, there is another cadet who would like to make this journey with us - "

"I must remind you I will not be returning to Krepek. I have decided to make Earth my new home. I do not know what my friend Wadra has decided yet, but she will at least also travel to Earth with us. You will receive training and tutoring in core subjects of Earth's schools. Earth has a prestigious military academy and Admiral Janeway will assess you on board the New Liberty should you desire further training there as well." 

The second boy - tall and lanky with eager eyes raised his hand.

"I desire very much to receive further education and training, Linnea. I would like to fly your vessel."

Linnea looked down at the PADD in her hand, then at the boy. "Neam Wajja?"

"I will train very hard, Linnea Limos."

Linnea smiled as she gazed at each of them. The director had left the room and returned with another young teen. It saddened Linnea that the war with their neighbouring world had left so many children orphaned and therefore at risk at the hands of unscrupulous men like Dorron.

They trusted her and she wished to honour that trust by being truthful with them. Captain Chakotay wanted young people he and Kathryn could train to crew on the Liberty. They would have access to the ship's computers, the holodeck, create flight simulations. What they learned there was perhaps a drop in the ocean of knowledge contained on Chakotay's vessel.

She nodded, then stood up. They also rose, ready to follow her outside. She turned to the director and handed him a Krepekean PADD.

"Director, they will meet with Captain Chakotay and Admiral Janeway tomorrow morning. This is the information we require for each of them."

"They were our best cadets, Linnea Limos. But we can only achieve so much with them. They need infinitely more."

"Thank you, Director."

Linnea looked at the young people. "I will see you all tomorrow morning. Do not be late!"

*************

He woke when a shadow fell over him, the person blocking his sun completely. Stunned, he realised that he'd fallen asleep on the bench and felt the result of sitting upright with his head leaning over the backrest.

"Hey, you're blocking my sun…"

When the person didn't reply, he frowned and when he looked properly, saw that a dagger dangled from the stranger's hand.

"Who - ?" he asked, and before he could react, the dagger flashed. Chakotay saw the steel blade lunging downwards in a swift action. "Hey!" he yelled, leaning to pull his d'k tahg from his boot.

"Die! Die!"

But the attacker had miscalculated Chakotay's response. Chakotay felt pain lance his side as the attacker stabbed him, but by now Chakotay was swift and wide awake. By the time the assailant pulled the dagger out, Chakotay was on his feet, grabbed the man in a vice grip round his neck and poised his d'k tahg at the man's chest.

"Try to move and you're a dead man. Who are you?" he barked into the man's ear. Chakotay had time to register the man was not a Krepekean.

When his attacker refused to speak, Chakotay stuck his dagger against the his throat. "You will die if you don't speak. Now!"

"Let me go," the man pleaded. "I will tell you - "

Chakotay steeled himself against weakening because he was bleeding profusely. He let the stranger go abruptly then pushed him away. From the corner of his eye he could see Kathryn approaching from the area of the house.

"Tell me!"

"My name is Lon. You killed Dorron."

"Dorron! Useless piece of cow dung, that one."

"Dorron had my daughter! She was his slave!"

It clicked finally. Lon. Dorron. A girl/woman. Inevitably someone searching for a loved one and wanting to kill the abductor/sex trader. He had searched three years for Kathryn. How long had this man searched for his daughter?

Suddenly Chakotay stumbled and he clutched his stomach. The next moment he heard Kathryn's voice, screaming as she ran towards them, a phaser in her hand.

"Chakotay!"

When she reached him he was already losing consciousness.

"Chakotay!"

*******

Kathryn was woken from her nap by two things - Andrew who clambered all over her and demanded she give him something to eat, and Wadra who entered the abode. Still sleepy, she took Andrew to the bathroom to freshen up. When she returned to the lounge, it was to see Wadra had begun to fix something for them to eat.

It was Krepekean cuisine which she didn't mind since she and Andrew had both become used to it.

"You look rested, Wadra. You went to see your sister?"

Wadra's eyes had clouded a little before the sun came through them again.

"My sister has not relented in her feelings towards me. She has always blamed me for turning Dorron's head, always believed Dorron was innocent."

"We know that a child witnessing unspeakable acts of sexual cruelty could become warped, his whole emotional equilibrium distorted by what he saw."

"Yes. I need not relate to you all that Dorron did to me, how he turned against his own flesh and blood. Riga thought I influenced him that way by - by seducing him. You know what I told you and Chakotay, Kathryn. I think you even saw what he did to me."

Wadra paused, then smiled as young Andrew sailed off her lap to play on the mat in the lounge.

"But it was not just Dorron that fuelled her hatred," Kathryn said, sensing how Wadra hesitated as if she wanted to add something then bit her tongue.

"Riga is our eldest sister. Dorron's father was the youngest child. When Riga became engaged to Elia, I was working in another city as a laboratory assistant for a large company that specialised in reducing the burns suffered by our people during the years of conflict. It was revolutionary work, something that our neighbouring world desired. To make a long story short, I visited the family home when I had leave due."

Kathryn smiled, sensing what was coming next.

"You met your sister's fiancé."

"Indeed. We fell in love…"

Wadra remained quiet for a long time, sunk in her own thoughts. Kathryn knew that Wadra's husband had died during the purge. She thought of Mark to whom she had been engaged and how her feelings for him had changed when she met Chakotay. She often wondered how Mark must have felt when he met someone else whom he later married.

"Then he married you instead."

"Riga has never forgiven me for - " Wadra paused, "for betraying her. You see, Kathryn, I have been accused before of deceit."

"It was not your fault. No one can change the path of love."

Wadra smiled. "Just like your feelings for Captain Chakotay."

"Just like that. And so your sister hated you."

Wadra nodded. Then Kathryn thought of something.

"Tell me, Wadra, do you think Dorron could have done the same thing to your sister?"

"I always wondered about that, Kathryn. Sometimes I thought he might have told her it was my fault, that I made him that way by sleeping with him. But Kathryn, Dorron only began assaulting me when he abducted me from Krepek to take care of you."

"Dorron was a swine."

"A…what?"

"The lowest of the low."

Then the conversation seemed to peter out. They looked to where Andrew was happily playing with a soft toy Kathryn had replicated for him as well as big piece puzzles.

"When I arrived, I saw Captain Chakotay had fallen asleep on the bench not far from here," said Wadra.

"Yes," Kathryn said on a sigh. "He is exhausted. He pilots during the night, what we call Gamma Shift, and has little sleep during the day to catch up. He needs the rest. It's why we need additional crew."

"His neck is crooked over the back of the bench. He will have pain," Wadra said sagely.

"He'll have some discomfort. Nothing that we can't fix."

"The wonders of your planet's medical advances."

Just at that moment they heard a shout, clearly sounding like Chakotay. Kathryn rose instantly, her hand reaching for her phaser as she started for the door.

"Watch Andrew for me," she ordered.

"I hope he is okay."

But Kathryn was already outside, rushing to the bench where Chakotay had fallen asleep. He was standing, his arm wrapped around an alien's neck and his d'k tahg glinted in the sun. She had a sudden image of the way he'd grabbed Dorron round the neck and slashed his throat in one swift move.

"Chakotay!!!"

He didn't appear to hear her. But then something happened. Chakotay stumbled away from the alien, then slowly began to slump to his knees.

"Chakotay!"

When she reached him, she gave the alien a murderous look before pointing the phaser at him.

"Please, it was a mistake. I am sorry!" cried the alien. "My name is Lon."

By now Kathryn's attention was on Chakotay.

"Chakotay, you're bleeding profusely."

"The EMH is already activated. Beam me there."

Within seconds, Chakotay dematerialised.

Kathryn stood up and faced the alien. "Explain what just happened here."

"Please, I shall explain. I did not mean to injure him."

"Now!"

"He killed Dorron."

"I know. But why should we trust you? You almost killed my friend!"

"It was a mistake, believe me. I thought - I thought he was bad, like Dorron."

"Then why would you want to kill someone who could lead you to your daughter, if she's still alive somewhere?"

"Dorron took my daughter two years ago. He was the only one who could tell me where she is. The only link was this man I injured. I am sorry."

Kathryn felt sorry for the man. He looked like the Krepekeans but not quite. Most likely from their neighbouring world that had been in conflict with them for so long. The races closely resembled each other, brothers once, like the Vulcans and Romulans. Linnea and Wadra were the only Krepekeans who had travelled together from station to station. Could Dorron have sold off the girl to some other vile trader? There had been so many at the time she herself had been captured, that that part remained hazy to her, even with her memory restored.

The poor man looked sick with worry.

"Come with me," she said.

********************** 

END CHAPTER 17


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay gets stabbed. Prelude to some interesting things.

* * *

 

"So," the EMH said with a smirk as he completed his treatment, "you were literally caught napping!"

"No need to rub it in, Doc. Don't tell Kathryn - "

"Admiral Janeway had you transported here. Why shouldn't she know? Fortunately I was online. You were about to bleed to death."

"Thank you. We leave in twenty four hours. You have your mobile emitter. Visit a few places in the morning, especially the top doctors - those that remained on Krepek - to learn the medicines of this world. We're travelling with a number of Krepekeans. I'd be happier knowing that you'll be on hand should any of them contract diseases of this world. Study their physiology - " Chakotay rose to a sitting position as he spoke.

"I have already, with the two ladies on board, Captain. Lie still!"  the EMH ordered as he pressed Chakotay down again. "I'm not done."

"It may not be enough, Doc. You've dealt with only the females of the species." Chakotay finally got up and bounced off the biobed the moment the EMH finished. "I have to go. It's also Kathryn's physical today, isn't it?"

"Yes. And you know how she used to feel about that!’ the EMH puffed.

But Chakotay was already out the sickbay doors before he heard the EMH's reply. He had to find Kathryn. He'd literally been caught napping and that wouldn't do at all. He'd been on the alert almost twenty four hours a day since he'd entered the Gamma Quadrant. His body was betraying him. He could have died had his assailant not aimed so woefully. He could have died. That rocked him hard. Every time he sustained a severe injury, he felt the energy sapped from him, weakening his body little by little.

He had to step up security. Even though Kathryn would be piloting tomorrow and would engage maximum warp which she had installed on the ship, he needed to be extra vigilant. He was a wanted man in some sectors. They'd be passing space stations and home world clusters where he'd had no compunction slashing the throats of men like Dorron who thought nothing of enslaving women, some of them young girls.

He'd returned many of them to their loved ones, but at what cost? The EMH had an array of his injuries archived over the three years he'd been in this quadrant; there were men who pursued him mercilessly for putting an end to their dubious earnings. Girls were to them merchandise -  sold, bartered, resold at a whim, given to sick men who used them to the point of death. He'd lost many girls, able only to inform their loved ones about their fate.

Marine Provost.

He'd almost died that day. She survived only long enough to give him vital information about a man from a planet in this sector, who'd held a woman with the fairest skin and beautiful hair, from a homeworld very far away. She didn't know the man's name nor that of the woman. And so Chakotay had followed that trail until he reached Darog Bohl and found Kathryn. He'd visited every seedy nightclub and dance venue until Isner led him to the Glitter Pit.

He had to get back to the abode for he had no idea what had happened to the stranger who attacked him. Kathryn's screams still rang in his ears but he must have collapsed just as she reached him. The alien didn't seem like the murderous type although he would concede that a man could want to hurt someone because he harboured great anger. It was still vague, his memory of the alien's words - he was looking for Dorron, that Chakotay had killed Dorron, thereby eliminating the last trace to a man who had his daughter.

Chakotay stood on the bridge preparing to enter coordinates for transport to the abode which was two kilometres away. He wasn't about to be surprised by someone wanting to kill him in broad daylight. Come to think of it, his attacker had looked very much like the Krepekeans, though not quite. Perhaps from Krepek's neighbouring world.

Sighing, he entered the coordinates. Seconds later he stood in the lounge of the abode he'd rented for their stay on Krepek. To his surprise Lon, the alien, sat on the sofa being questioned by Kathryn. He felt an immediate reassurance that Kathryn had everything under control.

Lon jerked to attention the minute he saw Chakotay, his hands in front to shield him from a possible attack. Chakotay gave a grimace at Lon's reaction.

"You could have killed me, Lon. Why didn't you?" he asked. "The way you sneaked up on me, handling the blade as if you were a novice… You're very good with a blade. So, why the pretence? Why did you just injure me? You know you missed my vital organs. You have knowledge of human anatomy or something close to humans."

Lon dropped his hands, sighing with relief.

"I am indeed sorry. I let my anger overtake my good judgment. I underestimated my adversary. But yes, I have been trained in hand-to-hand combat on Rodar. My race might be aggressive, yes, but I value discipline and peace as much as the next person. My daughter was only fifteen in Rodar sun turns when she was abducted by Dorron. I have searched for her for a very long time. I know - " Lon stopped suddenly, nodding at Kathryn and Wadra, his eyes filling with compassion. "I know what she has been forced into becoming. I just want my daughter back. She is my life."

"You must accept that she might not be alive right now."

"I know. But I feel close, like she is alive, you understand? Like she is somewhere near. Let me go with you - "

Chakotay sighed. He'd given Linnea orders to recruit three or four young people to travel with them to Earth, who could be trained in ship's functions and help the crew. If they shared quarters, Lon could have a cabin. Why, he wondered, did everyone suddenly want to hitch a ride to Earth?

"I have a friend, Isner, who is travelling ahead of us and resettling women we rescued from Dorron and other slave traders," he told Lon. "I know that your daughter was not one of the women. We communicate every seventy two hours. He would have informed me if he'd found a Rodaran. I will be hearing from him tomorrow evening. Meanwhile, yes, you can travel with us. I can use an extra fighter. There are not very friendly people out there. We destroy their business. If your daughter is alive, we will find her."

"Thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet. She may need intensive medical care if we find her alive, understand?"

"Perfectly. She is the image of my beloved wife who died when Bela was but a young child."

"Then we'll see you here tomorrow morning."

************* 

He slept on a couch in the room with Kathryn and Andrew on the big bed. Wadra and Linnea, whom he expected in the morning, shared another room. He lay listening to Kathryn's breathing which tonight was even. The catnap he'd taken on the bench before nearly being killed by Lon kept him awake so he lay on his back.

He'd promised the admirals an update soon. What to tell them? He knew Kathryn had sent a message to her mother with pictures of Andrew. On the surface, Kathryn appeared fine. But two nights ago, she'd again had a nightmare, perhaps not as severe as the first one when she'd been at her most irritable the following morning.

Piloting in the dead of night - he grimaced thinking how Harry Kim used to command Voyager during the night shift - was tedious if all he gazed at through the viewscreen was cosmic dust and dead space. Kathryn's breathing had been even, rhythmic and for a long stretch of time, he'd felt the reassurance that she was okay, was sleeping peacefully at last. Andrew, bless him, slept through most nights.

Then suddenly he'd felt his commbadge practically flutter as the pulsing became faster and erratic. He'd ensured space was safe for at least a few lightyears before engaging autopilot. Then he’d rushed to her cabin…

Even in the low illumination Chakotay could see how Kathryn was thrashing around in bed; he could hear her raspy breathing. He rushed forward then stopped as he reached the bed. Kneeling down, he leaned over and touched her arm gently.

"Don't…no more. Yes! Fuck me! Do it, do it!"

It shocked him how raw the words were that tore from her. She was clearly in the throes of sex, her body primed to orgasm at will.

"Kathryn, shhh…you are dreaming," he whispered.

"More, I'll give you more!"

Then he shook her, a little more forcefully this time. "Wake up, Kathryn!"  His words, though soft, were urgent.

"Oh, where are you, Chakotay, my love? Please take me away…"

That broke his heart as he hauled her into his embrace and held her close. "Kathryn!"

Her eyes flew open at his impassioned cry. She gazed at him for long moments. 

"Chakotay?"

"Yes. You dreamed. Shhh…it's over now. You are safe."

She hid her face against his hard chest, sighing with relief that her dream ended had been interrupted. He didn't have to guess what it was about, but hearing his own name just rammed home how even in those moments during sex, she had wanted him to come and deliver her. She had no control over how her body was made to respond but in the deepest recesses of her subconscious mind, Kathryn never enjoyed what she was doing.

So she lay in his arms while he waited for the wild thudding of her heart to recede to normalcy. Later she dozed off. When he moved to ease himself away from her, she crawled right back against him.

"Stay, please," came her whisper.

"Kathryn…" he groaned. "You need to rest, okay?"

How could he do more than just hold her in his arms and dream of being with her like this for the rest of his life? Kathryn was so vulnerable, just touching her like he wanted to make love to her might send her into a spin.

"Just hold me. I need to feel you close, so close. Just hold me."

He toed off his boots, removed his phaser, then slid under the cover and pulled her into his arms again. She smelled of everything nice, of Andrew's baby powder, of her hair that always reminded him of fresh apples and brandy, and the fragrance of her perfume that lingered probably after she'd lain in her tub. He wanted to die just inhaling Kathryn, of the memory of that night when they'd lain together like this.

And Chakotay steeled himself against the overwhelming desire to relax his body and give in to the urge to make love to her. Beads of sweat formed against his brow, and he grit his teeth as Kathryn wormed herself against him, hearing her little moan of satisfaction.

_Let me not take her. Please let me not be a beast. Her trust in me is complete. Let me not betray her trust. O spirits!_

And somehow, after his fervent silent supplication to the spirits, to his father whom he knew always kept a watchful eye over him, Chakotay's body stilled, relaxed and eased into the blessed oblivion of sleep.

He felt someone - small hands - pinching his cheeks, pulling and tugging. He groaned into wakefulness, frowning at the disturbance, only to stare into a pair of childish eyes.

"Papa?"

"Hey, Andrew."

How long his son had been standing there he didn't know, but it couldn't have been long. How long, for that matter, had he been sleeping?

"Papa, can I sleep here? Can I? Can I?"

Next to him, Kathryn had rolled away during the night and was lying on her side, still fast asleep. He nodded to Andrew and like lightning the child was on the bed worming himself into Chakotay's arms.

"Mommy is sleeping," he said. "We mustn't wake Mommy."

Chakotay smiled, giving Andrew a hug. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt him, Andrew or Kathryn, Chakotay thought. Later when it seemed Andrew had drifted off to sleep again, Chakotay had quietly eased himself off the bed, put his boots on, took his phaser which thankfully Andrew had ignored, before leaving Kathryn's quarters.

He hurried to the bridge where he took over piloting again, just in time to use his expertise to dodge an asteroid field.

Later Kathryn joined him after having tended to Andrew. She looked strained, was the thought that ran through his mind.

"Thank you."

"It was bad, right?"

"Yes. I - " Kathryn paused as she sat down in the chair next to him. "I know you came. I was distressed in my nightmare, you know? Mostly, I experience fear and longing for release."

"I will be with you, you know that."

"In my nightmares, I cry out for you. Maybe during my years in captivity, those times that - that I was working, maybe in my subconscious I wanted you to be with me, to take me from there."

He'd glanced at Kathryn, saw how difficult it was to talk, how she'd swallowed painfully because she'd frowned quite severely.

"Last night," he began, "you wanted me to stay with you. You lay in my arms and became peaceful again, falling asleep quite quickly after that."

Kathryn looked at him for the first time since she'd entered the bridge, a wan smile on her face.

"I want this to get better, Chakotay. I want it."

"I know. I understand."

**************

Now, spending their last night on Krepek, Chakotay lay on the sofa he arranged in the bedroom. Kathryn and Andrew were already sleeping and he monitored her breathing. She seemed reassured that he was there with them, that he would hold her in his arms and let the nightmare drift away from her.

At least he could hold her in his arms now. Before he couldn't really touch her because she always instinctively flinched.  Now she actually invited him, wanted him to hold her. He didn't mind that he served mainly as her refuge at this point. It was progress and hopefully by the time they reached Earth's orbit, he would at least be kissing her.

"Chakotay…?"

Kathryn was still awake? he thought with some surprise. He stiffened on the sofa, wondering whether she dreamed again. He sat up and peered in the darkness at her form on the bed.

"What is it, Kathryn? A nightmare?" he asked, wanting to kick himself that his commbadge lay on a table near the window.

"No," she murmured. "Please, lie on the bed here with us"

"Kathryn…"

"Please. I promise I'll lie very still."

He imagined he could see Kathryn's smile as he got up from the sofa and joined her on the bed. Then he pulled her in his arms, wanting to drown again as Kathryn's softness moulded to his body. Sighing, he pressed into her, enjoying her nearness, realising with a start why he couldn't fall asleep on the sofa.

Slowly his eyes closed as he lost himself in a deep slumber.

************

The following morning he awoke to find Kathryn gently tugging his cheeks, smiling as she gazed at him.

"Hey…"

"Good to see you're looking rested, Admiral," he said, still a little groggy.

He steeled himself once more against her nearness, the fact that she could look so damnably good in the morning. Behind him Andrew was still mercifully asleep, but they knew once he was up and about, he'd go in search of Wadra who'd see to his breakfast.

Kathryn touched his brow, her fingers tracing his tattoo, the touch setting aflame every nerve centre. She appeared unaware of the effect she had on him. Either that or she was in a playful mood, knowing exactly what she was doing to unsettle him a little.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked in a whisper, groaning as she slid her leg up and down his calf.

Kathryn braced herself on her elbow. She caressed his face, her fingers a butterfly's touch on his lips. His eyes closed as he reveled in the way Kathryn touched him. This time he knew it was what she needed to do, to establish touch wholly inspired by herself, that it bore absolutely no resemblance to what she'd done with clients, that it didn't trigger any bad memory. She wanted to know it was Chakotay with whom she had the freedom to do things that pleased her wonderfully and created in her a sense of awe and surprise.

Then her lips touched his in a featherlight benediction. He pressed her head closer, enjoying the frissons of delight that rippled through his body. For a few minutes they lost themselves in the kiss.

"Mommy? Papa?"

They broke apart, chuckling as they pulled Andrew to lie between them. He began babbling, pulling his mother's hair, pinching Chakotay's cheek. Then he bounced up and down on the bed, counting as he landed, stumbling and digging his knees into Chakotay's stomach.

It was a joyful time of the morning and Chakotay's mood lifted as he saw how happy both mother and son were. Wadra showed no surprise when she knocked and entered to collect Andrew for his breakfast.

Kathryn braced herself on her elbow like she had earlier while Chakotay lay on his back, glancing at her, smiling his inimitable smile that always made her heart skip a beat. Then he turned  away, a pensive look on his face. She gave a deep sigh as she traced the outline of his tattoo. He was so good, had come to her cabin when she'd had a nightmare. The second time she hadn't wanted him to leave.

So different from those first weeks when she'd flinch at his touch, especially if it threatened to be more than just platonic. He'd walked away that day on the bridge when she'd kissed him, wanting to change the old parameters that had existed between them. She'd learned that Seven had parted with him on the very day she, Kathryn, married Daryl Wentworth. She'd felt waves of regret wash over her for everything that she'd lost, for everything that Chakotay had lost.

So much had been wasted. A simple 'no' to his request to be more than just a friend changed her life forever and she knew with a sinking finality that she would live with that decision for the rest of her life. She knew if she accessed that part of her brain that referenced every day she'd been with Daryl after their marriage, with Dorron in the subsequent years, the horror of what she had become, what she had done would play out time and again like a repulsive pornographic holonovel.

She had to learn to conquer her traumas and package them with vicious determination where they would never have to trouble her again. Chakotay was her rock, her salvation during this dire time. Never before had she needed anyone more than she needed Chakotay right now. The kindest man who breathed in four quadrants.

By the spirits, she vowed never to lose him again.

She loved him.

"Hey…" she heard him whisper her name.

"I love you, Chakotay," the words burst from her with so much fervent passion that her eyes filled with tears. She gave a great sob before he hauled her into his embrace.

How long he held her like he'd never let her go she didn't know and didn't really care. He could hold her and drop kisses in her hair forever. She experienced a swooning sensation, whorls of delight flowing through her body. She was beginning to feel again. After so long, her body was responding to a man's touch in the way she'd prayed for. Her eye welled up again.

"Kathryn…"

"Hmmm?"

"Look at me, please."

When she complied, she saw only love in his eyes.

"I want you. I want to make love to you. But, my love, I will only ever be guided by you, you understand? I know it's difficult to separate my touching you in that way and what happened to you. It will recede and I shall be there whenever you need me to comfort you."

"I trust you, Chakotay. Implicitly. Don't think I'm not aware how much control it costs when you spoon your body to mine. It will get better. I will get better. I must!"

"Good. Now kiss me before we get up here to prepare for our return to the Alpha Quadrant."

**************

END CHAPTER 18

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action adventure!

* * *

 

Chakotay and Lon sat in the small mess hall studying the PADDs splayed across the table. From time to time Lon made a gruff sound while Chakotay pressed his lips together in anger.

"When the authorities on Darog Bohl impounded Dorron's vessel, I downloaded all his files to this ship's computers. The Vodar was then awarded to my friend  Isner after I killed Dorron."

"You killed him in cold blood, so Linnea tells me."

"Uh, yes. I wasn't in any mood to be nice, you understand? Picture your own anger when you stabbed me and multiply that a hundred times. I had no patience with him and his ilk and I have no patience with those still involved in trafficking."

"Will we find her? My daughter?

"These files will tell us. Dorron was nothing if not systematic. Something will show up soon."

"I hope so, my friend. Did you know that her school renounced me and refused to take some responsibility? All I asked was that they acknowledged Bela went missing while in their care. They didn't seem to give a damn. Told me it was my own fault. Bela was headstrong, see? Not listening to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Lon. It's the story of many of the young girls ensnared in this game. Here's one dated two years ago - " Chakotay said reflectively as he began scrolling down the text and then transferred the texts to his own PADD. He silently thanked Kathryn for having drawn the graphemes of the English alphabet when she tried to write little stories for Andrew.

"Anything?" Lon asked, his own PADD poised in mid-air.

"You know that Kathryn, Linnea and Wadra were also victims of slave trading," Chakotay said, glancing at Lon, then continued. "Because she spoke a language alien to them, Kathryn had drawn graphemes of our English alphabet to teach Andrew and write stories for him. I can now use it to translate Dorron's Krepekean text - "

"I would not have been able to help you there. Our race might be very similar like your Vulcans and Romulans which I've studied, but our language is very, very different."

"Now I can understand perfectly what Dorron has entered here." 

Chakotay studied the PADD a few minutes, scrolling, pausing, scrolling again, the action slowing down until he came to a complete stop. He was suddenly glad that he'd encoded these files, hidden under mounds of Maquis encryptions to keep Kathryn from stumbling on to them, more, he realised, to protect her than simply preventing her curious nature that always got the better of her.

"You found something," Lon stated, a sudden lightness in his tone.

"Seems like it." Chakotay frowned, then looked at Lon. "Dorron was part of a network of individuals in what they called a lucrative trade. Seems he'd abduct a few girls, drug them, even - " Chakotay swallowed painfully as memory of how Kathryn looked that first time he'd seen her in the Glitter Pit. For a few heavy moments he was unable to utter a word.

"What, Chakotay?"

"Even erase their memories. Especially erase their memories. Be prepared, Lon, that your daughter might not recognise you."

"Love," Lon bit out, "is strong enough to let the subconscious mind overcome that. It will be in her eyes."

"Remember my warning - "

"Yes, but I am positive Bela is alive. What have you found?"

"Here is a transaction of a sale to a syndicate called simply Aikot. Says here he had dealings with a character Da'Ben. God in heaven…"

"Something wrong?"

"He mentions a girl, in my world's Earth years, she is fifteen years old, but he refers to her as Ashia - "

"Ashia?" Lon asked, frowning heavily.

"But he describes her as a school - " Chakotay stopped abruptly. "I'm not sure you want to hear this, Lon."

"Go on, Chakotay. I have searched two years. No more surprises."

"Fine, I think this is her. He describes her as a school child, fresh, no man has touched her yet. Dorron describes her as 'in appearance very much like him, but not the same' - "

"Like him but not the same. Vulcans and Romulans. Krepekeans and Rodarans. That must be Bela."

"I think so too. There are no other girls with this species description."

"Okay, where is she?"

"A planet twenty seven lightyears from our current position. We could reach the Albion Cluster in ten days if Kathryn maintains maximum cruise velocity at 9.975 for periods of two hours at a time."

Lon's eyes lit up. "Once we're in that system, we can trace her."

"Keep our eyes and ears open," Chakotay added before taking the PADDs, his legs creaking as he got up. "I am tired. Haven't slept properly in two days. You have combat training with our four young cadets."

"Indeed. I shall endeavour to be very patient travelling to that Albion Cluster."

"Same here. I have to check with Kathryn on the bridge and apprise her of the new coordinates."

"You do that, my friend. I shall enjoy observing the eager young cadets soaking up as much information as this ship's computers are willing to spit out at them."

"They are orphans, Lon - "

"Don't remind me of what my homeworld had done to Krepek. Say, I've made a study of the combat weapons of many homeworlds of your Federation. I am intrigued by the Klingons, their code of honour, their bat-leth. I favour that weapon very much - "

"You have been fighting holographic Klingon foes?"

"And I intend teaching our cadets everything!"

"Good. Excuse me…"

Chakotay left the mess hall and made his way to the bridge to speak to Kathryn before hitting the pillows. By now his head was swimming from lack of sleep. Before they reached the Albion cluster, he wanted to be wide awake and alert, and he wanted his d'k tahg to speak before he opened his mouth.

****************************

Kathryn sat in the command seat on the bridge while Neam Wajja, one of the Krepekean boys Linnea had recruited, sat in the chair next to her. Of the four young people, Neam had taken the most instinctively to flying, absorbing with astonishing speed almost every aspect of navigation of a Federation vessel. He was a young Tom Paris soaking up everything he could learn.

In a seat behind Neam sat Orjja Olun, a young girl also training to pilot. Kathryn grinned inwardly. The four were so eager to learn, they reminded her of every cadet or student at high school who wanted to make the stars and starships their home. They were bright, open, friendly and excelled in their various fields. Orjja impressed both Linnea and Chakotay with her intimate knowledge of Krepek's biodiversity and a desire to study the exobiology of each world they visited, especially her new homeworld, Earth.

All four had been orphaned while still very young during the purge of their planet's northern hemisphere. Their parents had died defending their homeworld. Linnea had assured her that their few remaining relatives had been glad that the youngsters could settle elsewhere since they really didn't care about the kids. Kathryn thought privately that they were glad Chakotay had taken the foursome off their hands. It made her think of Icheb and for a few moments, Kathryn felt the old longing for her former Voyager crew, wondering what had happened to them, what they were all doing. Shrugging off the painful thoughts, she focused on the viewscreen.

"What is our projected heading, Neam?" Kathryn asked the young co-pilot.

"Currently on a course for two systems in sector 98076, heading 707-mark- 213, Admiral Janeway."

Neam glanced at her, then turned to look at Orjja, smiling broadly. Kathryn nodded, gracing Neam with a smile of pleasure.

"Excellent. Orjja, what will be our estimated time of arrival?" Kathryn asked without turning to look at the young girl sitting behind them.

"In sixteen point five minutes we will engage maximum velocity  of 9.975. We should be within the orbit of the Albion Cluster in seven and a quarter hours." 

"Thank you, Orjja. We will be relieved for Gamma Shift soon. Then you two can take a break as soon as Captain Chakotay arrives."

They gave a little whoop of relief.

"Apologies, Admiral. We are merely looking forward to using the holodeck to play Velocity."

"We hear you and Captain played Velocity often on your previous vessel."

Kathryn nodded, smiling as she continued to keep her eyes on the view, mainly of intermittent star systems, cosmic dust and a nebula that appeared benign. Neam and Orjja kept up small talk in their own language, which Kathryn's universal translator picked up. Mainly about a match between them and the other twosome, Joda and Amu, a game which their friends apparently had lost

She and Chakotay were extremely pleased with their progress. They learned fast and for stretches of several hours could be left on the bridge to pilot while she and Chakotay took a breather.

While Chakotay's vessel resembled a rust-bucket on the outside, it had all the latest Federation upgrades and mimicked the specifications of a state of the art Nebula-class vessel in its interior. Lon had  undertaken to do maintenance work on the New Liberty while she had done a few upgrades on the ship's engines, to ensure that the ship was running at peak efficiency.

The Rodaran, trained in security with a vast array of experience in the scientific field, had been given access to Earth's school curriculums and had hammered out a weekly study roster for the four cadets. By the time they arrived in Earth's orbit, they would be ready for the equivalent of a senior high school year before admittance to the Academy. She smiled grimly. Lon had a teenage daughter who would be seventeen by now, and he knew how to deal with adolescents, especially with the help of Linnea.

Lon's story was a sad one and in conversations with him the past few weeks they knew how he'd been wracked by guilt at not having been vigilant enough when Dorron abducted his daughter. She had gone on a school excursion to Krepek VII when she became separated from the group, not heeding her father's warning to stay with the group and not wander off. A fruitless search of two years and he still hadn't found her. It was only when they'd visited Krepek to replenish much needed provisions that Lon had been given some light at the end of his tunnel.

She was glad of the young people's company as well as Lon's. She couldn't help but imagine how Chakotay had traveled alone, with just himself as company if she excluded their intrepid EMH. But then, Chakotay loved silences and long periods of meditation. Still, the ship had come alive since the new recruits and Lon joined, with Andrew over the moon because they entertained him and loved to play with him.

*****************

**Ten days later…**

In the small mess hall Chakotay addressed the crew of the New Liberty. The vessel lay hidden on the dark side of the largest of Albion IV's three moons. They had traveled at maximum velocity for several hours at a time and reached the cluster in the time they'd computed for the New Liberty to arrive.

The cadets, as he liked to call them although they'd be in senior year in high school on Earth, were ready for action. He liked them, their eagerness reminding him so much of himself or Harry and Kathryn as Academy cadets. He'd been so fired up in his youth. Fired up and angry as the years went by.

All eyes were on him. Kathryn was seated at the small table next to him. Andrew sat on her lap. Their son had refused to sit anywhere else and for once wouldn't even go to Wadra.

Did the child sense the nature of their mission? he wondered.

"Amu and Orjja will remain on the bridge. You have shown great skill in piloting and handling the transporter consoles. You will be able to transport anyone in a pinch, understand?"

"Aye, sir!" the two girls chorused. All wore Federation commbadges which the admirals had, in a moment of great insight, given him at the start of his mission into the Gamma Quadrant, for storage, just in case. The youngsters remained fascinated by the technology of the vessel.

"Remember, once we transport to the surface, this ship remains on red alert. Is that understood?"

Everyone nodded. He'd shown Lon and the youngsters the ship's weapons systems, the two photon torpedoes he'd smuggled off a Federation derelict drifting just outside Federation space. Smiling inwardly, he thought how Paris and Ponsonby had thought of everything, yet it still took him three years to find Kathryn.

"Neam and Joda will be with Lon and me. Kathryn and Linnea have been given their orders already. Wadra, not only is your care solely with Andrew. You are to head for the sick bay immediately as soon as we have transported to the ship. The EMH will remain activated - "

Joda's hand went up. Of the four orphans, Joda was the most reserved and Chakotay suspected he harboured a great anger. He needed counselling, that was certain. Possibly, he had witnessed his parents being murdered. Chakotay made a mental note to let Wadra take the boy in hand.

"Yes?"

"Will we get to fight?" he asked.

"For you, not unless you absolutely have to, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I will see you on the bridge in an hour."

They all got up and prepared to leave the mess hall. Wadra hovered around Kathryn and Andrew.

"Kathryn…"

Kathryn rose too and had made to leave when Chakotay called her.

"Come with me to my quarters, please?"

Kathryn nodded, handing Andrew to Wadra. Andrew started screaming but Wadra remained firm, clucking like a mother hen as she walked out of the mess hall, all the while talking to the child. Again Chakotay wondered if Andrew didn't sense what they were going to do today, that his mother's heightened adrenaline levels were affecting him. Kathryn smiled indulgently as she watched them disappear through the door before her smile dried up when she gazed at him.

"Something's up, Chakotay?"

"Just come, will you?"

They left the mess hall and headed for Chakotay's quarters. Once there, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly before releasing her. He sighed as he made her sit down on the couch. Kathryn frowned, her face filled with a sudden unease.

"What is it, Chakotay?"

"Kathryn," he began, "when I found you, you cannot imagine how I felt getting you back. The doctor's examination showed that Dorron had expelled probably five fetuses from your body over the two years you were his slave."

"I know. I remember those times though by now I don't want to dwell on them."

"I love you - "

"Yes," she said with a smile, "I cannot imagine my life without you. Why are you still standing?"

Kathryn got up again and stood in his embrace.

"What is it, Chakotay?"

"We are going to rescue a seventeen year old young girl, the apple of her father's eye. We have absolutely no idea what her condition will be once we find her."

How could he explain to her the way she’d looked, the way Linnea and the other girls looked? In a macabre sense Dorron's slaves were slightly better off because he’d made them perform, had them engage in entertainment. Still, Kathryn…

"No, we don't. But we are realistic, right?"

"Once we are off this vessel, Kathryn, I need to tap into my anger. I need to feel that even before I see Bela and the other girls. Please, whatever you think of me at this moment, let me do my job, okay?"

"You killed Dorron without batting an eyelid."

"For the duration of this mission," he said, ignoring her statement, "we need to be like we were on Voyager. An away team bringing home broken dolls. We hide whatever else we think, even when what we see absolutely horrifies us. See this?" he murmured, removing his d'k tahg from its sheath. "I will use whatever means necessary to secure the safe return of young women and girls who right now have no control over what happens to them. I owe it to you, to Lon, to those women, especially."

"Chakotay! I am still a functionary of the Federation, in case you have forgotten!!

"And you have no idea of just how demanding the past three years have been for me. I need for you to be prepared for the things you'll witness - "

"I can handle it, Chakotay. I have been where Lon's unfortunate daughter and others like her are. Believe me, I am prepared."

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you. You've entered details of the Rodaran genome into the computer on the bridge. Now, the tricky part starts. "

"Won't take me more than a minute," Kathryn said as she moved past him to the door. He followed her quickly, marvelling again at how briskly she could walk.

He felt again the old thrill swamp his body. Kathryn was back in captain's mode, as in the old days in the Delta Quadrant. He was prepared. Kathryn carried only her phaser. She'd need both hands clear to help Bela and any other girl with her. She'd given one look at her Betsy in the weapons storage cabinet and declared she wouldn't need it for this mission. When he asked her why, she'd replied succinctly, "You're the captain."

On the bridge the others were waiting for them. Kathryn moved to the computers to the right of the conn panel and prepared for a wide scan of the surface of the planet. They'd established that population density occurred close to the equator. For several seconds they waited with bated breath as she moved from grid to grid until finally they saw a small pulsing.

"We've found a lifesign of the Rodaran genome, Chakotay. I think we have her."

Chakotay gave a sigh of relief as he gripped Kathryn's shoulder while Neam, Joda, Linnea and Lon looked on, awed by Kathryn's skills.

"Here are the co-ordinates, Orjja," Kathryn instructed the young girl. "Prepare to beam Captain Chakotay, Lon and Joda to the surface first. Then beam the rest of us down. Remain on high alert."

"Aye, Admiral!" Orjja and Amu responded.

"Ready?" Chakotay asked Lon and Joda as he joined them on a small transporter pad at the back of the bridge.

Seconds later they found themselves in a darkened alley of a weakly lit building. The area was deserted, just the way he liked it. The exact co-ordinates pointed to this building. Chakotay knew the drill. He'd done this countless of times. The girl was here, but even so, he had to be on his guard.

They entered the back alley of the building, mostly where the pubs and restaurants were located. It made his work easy. The moment someone opened the door to throw out some trash, he slipped in. If he couldn't wait he'd bang on the door, swiftly skulk in the darkness and then pounce. He shrugged off the last time he'd saved a woman. He almost died that day. It was the one day he felt regret at saving someone.

"Captain?" Joda whispered close to him.

Before he could respond, Kathryn, Linnea and Neam materialised.

"Isner has reached orbit, Chakotay," she told him in a quick greeting.

"Thanks. We need his back-up. Now wait on my count-down…"

Chakotay began mentally counting down from ten to one. By the time he reached five, the back door opened. Like a flash of lightning Chakotay grabbed the alien in a vice grip round his neck, his d'k tahg poised to slash the man's throat. The trash he carried flew out his hands and landed in a soft plop a few metres away from them.

"Where do they keep the girls?" Chakotay demanded, his voice close by the alien's ear. When the alien refused to answer, Chakotay squeezed harder. "Where?"

Then the door opened again and another alien appeared.

"Hey, M'groth, no playing games tonight - "

Next moment Lon grabbed him, his dagger flashing as he threatened to cut the alien's throat.

"My friend here wants to stick his blade in your friend's neck," Lon whispered, his voice dripping venom. "Don't make him mad. Where are they holding the girls?"

The man trembled violently. Kathryn had her phaser pointed at him, ready to stun him once he opened his mouth.

"Talk," Lon insisted, "because my friend here will kill your colleague. Now, where are they kept?"

Then Lon very carefully removed his hand from the alien's neck. The stricken man sputtered a few seconds before he began speaking.

"In the dungeon. Down the steps from the kitchen, there is a door. It is always locked."

"Who opens the door for clients?"

"What clients?" the alien asked. Then Lon's blade flashed. The next moment the alien screamed as blood began pouring from his cheek.

"Who? Talk before your friend here dies. Chakotay, kill that man - !"

"I have the codes. Don't kill him!"

"Codes! Now!"

Then Chakotay gestured to the two boys to follow Linnea into the kitchen. Kathryn kept her phaser pointed at the alien held by Chakotay.

Lon listened carefully as the alien revealed the codes. He frowned, but Kathryn had already entered the codes into her tricorder.

"We go in," she barked shortly.

"Go, Kathryn. Open the door for us."

Kathryn entered the building, leaving Lon and Chakotay with the two men from the kitchen.

"We cannot let these two alert their people," Lon said.

"Definitely not. They are in cahoots."

Chakotay nodded to Lon. Their daggers flashed briefly. The next moment both aliens lay dead in the dark alley. Lon followed Chakotay as they made their way through the kitchen and joined Kathryn and the others. She entered the codes after which the door swished open. Chakotay and Lon moved past the women and two boys down a flight of stairs. The first alien they encountered stood in front of a door.

Chakotay grabbed the alien and twisted the fiend's head. They heard a loud crack. Next moment the alien hit the floor. This door was open, leading into a corridor with doors on each side. Kathryn had already anticipated his next instruction for she'd nodded as she moved slowly down the corridor and stopped in front of an entrance.

From another door an alien exited, showing surprise when he saw the visitors. Instantly Neam and Joda grabbed the man and bullied him into sinking to the floor. Neam, the stronger of the two boys dived onto the man, his elbow banging into the alien's head. Then he brushed his palms with a satisfied smirk. Joda followed him into the room. Kathryn heard screams before it became silent again.

"She's in here…"

Chakotay stood ready. He kicked down the door and nodded to Lon to enter.

"Your daughter is there."

Kathryn and Lon entered while Linnea followed Chakotay to the next rooms as he either kicked down a door or simply pushed it open.

******

They were first aware of the smell - old urine, faeces, sweat from heaving bodies, dried vomit. Kathryn experienced a momentary nausea, but forced down the urge to retch. Lon had no such problem. Glancing his way, she noticed how his eyes darted around the large room. There were ill arranged partitions. A quick count revealed six and sounds from each told them just what was happening.

Finger against her lips, she gestured to Lon to remain quiet and not shout his daughter's name. Then she pointed to the first of the partitions. Their objective, to incapacitate the clients who jumped at the noise made at the entrance.

Kathryn stunned the first alien while Lon grabbed one who'd rushed towards them, his lower body unclothed, penis still erect. In a swift movement Lon slashed the alien's throat. Two down, they counted. One by one they attacked the aliens while they heard screams coming from the women.

Only now Lon began yelling.

"Bela! Bela!"

Kathryn moved from partition to partition. Naked women, some bleeding from wounds inflicted by their handlers, sitting up on the mattresses, drawing dirty covers across their bosoms.

"Where is Bela?" she yelled at one woman. The girl pointed to the partition in the corner of the room.

"Get up and gather your belongings. We're getting you out of here. Hurry, we do not have much time."

"Bela!" she heard Lon's distressed voice. "Bela, my baby!"

Kathryn moved to where Lon had disappeared behind a partition. He was bending near a stricken young girl. Even in the semi dark Kathryn knew it was his daughter.

She flicked open her tricorder and began to take quick readings

She was reminded of Chakotay's words earlier.

_"Once we are off this vessel, Kathryn, I need to tap into my anger. I need to feel that rage even before I see Bela and the other girls. Please, whatever you think of me at this moment, let me do my job, okay?"_

Looking at the unconscious, brutalised naked girl, Kathryn understood what Chakotay meant by his words.

_Don't weep now, Kathryn. Be strong for all these girls…_

********************* 

END CHAPTER 19


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of young Bela...

* * *

 

**Ten days later…**

Kathryn walked the short distance down the corridor to the sick bay. Since they'd rescued Bela and ten women from the rat hole on Albion IV, there was a heaviness in her that she couldn't shake off. By all accounts it had been a successful mission. Chakotay had been like a madman the way he'd killed perpetrators and clients alike.

Always aware that he'd warned her about tapping into his anger, she had no idea of the level to which he'd sunk. She had not read many of his logs pertaining to his work of the past three years, and what she'd read she only really compared to her own experience and her own rescue. She'd seen Chakotay slash Dorron's neck, felling him in one single strike. In reality, the horror of that act was mainly on the periphery of her subconscious mind. She had been drugged by Dorron and only her drug-induced mind recorded his death in a kind of superficial manner.

This time round she was fully alert, her memories and equilibrium restored to be fully and glaringly aware of what she believed to be a serious infraction on his part. And therefore what she'd seen Chakotay do filled her with complete revulsion. He had been angry, but an anger so contained she'd often wondered since that night how killing an opponent could be done with such unconcerned ease. He was, she'd realised, the quintessential destroyer, one who'd been given a licence to kill by men like Owen Paris and Adam Ponsonby.

Because of her.

It was her disappearance that had triggered the renegade fighter in him. On Voyager that aspect of his character had been controlled as he'd evolved from rebel to responsible officer, one who had been angry at the manner in which she had gone after Ransom and threatened to kill Lessing. She'd recoiled at the brutal way with which Chakotay had dispatched those who crossed his path. In fairness, he did warn her and she'd been arrogant in thinking he really didn't quite mean it in such terms.

It was a rude awakening. She had to concede that the only way to save women abducted from their homes, their schools, their vessels was the use of extreme force. Chakotay had been stabbed during the incident that night, yet remained oblivious of his injury, ensuring first that every woman and girl was safely on board the New Liberty and Isner's vessel _Sunbird._ She had come face to face with the methods  Chakotay used to free women from sex slavery.

Kathryn sighed. Since that eventful night, there existed an uneasy kind of truce between them. They hadn't spoken much and the only conversation they'd had was no conversation at all. It was a full blown disagreement. She tried pushing the memory of that confrontation away, but was assailed by other images that terrorised her.

Two things kept her awake at night and kick-started her nightmares in all their ugly glory - Chakotay's fury at the way he killed the slave traders and clients who came in his way, and the severity of Bela's injuries.

Bela Rivot.

Seventeen years old in Earth years. Fifteen when she'd disappeared. Sold by Dorron to another sex trafficker. It was why Kathryn didn't know of Bela's existence until they'd met her distraught and frantic father.

Seeing the young girl lying on the dirty, soiled mattress with a man leaning over her had shocked her to her foundations. The nausea she'd experienced the moment she'd entered the room had threatened to undo her. She'd swallowed hard to choke down the urge to throw up. But at that moment Lon had already killed the alien who was raping the girl. The next moment the distraught father had hauled his daughter into his arms and wept so hard it was impossible not to shed tears herself. The immediate, superficial scans she'd done with her tricorder delivered a death blow to the chances of young Bela surviving.

There had been old injuries, new injuries, a fresh injury of a broken pelvis, one leg bent in an unnatural position…

Kathryn had hit her commbadge the second Lon had wrapped his daughter in the soiled covering and had them beamed to the New Liberty's sick bay.

After that they'd rounded up the rest of the girls. Chakotay had been like a madman. She and the two boys kept seeing how his blades flashed as he slashed the throats of the aliens. The shock she'd experienced lay even closer to the surface in the eyes of Neam and Joda. There'd been moments in which she'd doubted the wisdom of bringing the young cadets on the mission. But they'd been desperately short-staffed and needed every hand to help fight and direct the rescued girls. The youngsters would need counselling, that was certain.

After Lon and Bela had been transported to Chakotay's ship, she'd rushed down the corridors, finding Chakotay in the middle of grabbing a perpetrator. Kathryn sighed deeply as she recalled that moment she'd seen him so close up with the alien in the half-lit room.

So much fury she had never before seen, never.

There was a wildness about him, a contained kind of ruthlessness she had not associated with Chakotay before. Had his search for her changed him so much? Or was it the fact that the admirals had given him a 'licence to kill' directive before he set out on his mission into the Gamma Quadrant?

The alien had slid to the floor, his head almost completely severed from his body. And then the next alien attacked and before she had time to draw her phaser and stun the man, Chakotay had already pulled the fiend into a vice grip. She'd seen the flash of a blade so quick she hadn't time to blink. The alien had plunged heavily to the floor, already dead by the time he hit it.

"Get the women, Kathryn!" Chakotay had shouted urgently. "We don't have much time."

And so she swallowed her outrage, guided the boys and Linnea to round up a bedraggled group of women who'd grabbed their meagre belongings and waited for the group who'd come to rescue them. All were transported to the New Liberty where Isner and his crew were waiting for them.

Over the next few days, the women had been treated for their injuries, declared medically fit by the EMH who'd handed Isner their new medical records and transported them to the _Sunbird_. Bela remained on the New Liberty since her father had decided to make the journey to Earth and settle there.

Kathryn reached the sick bay doors and paused before she entered. Sometime she'd have to confront Chakotay again, just not now that the wounds were still so raw, on the surface. She didn't have the heart to face him.

Sighing, she entered the medical bay and walked straight to the main biobed where Bela still lay. Chakotay had threatened to chain Lon to his bed in the small cabin assigned to him because he hadn't slept much since his daughter had been transported to sick bay.

When Kathryn approached the bed, she was not surprised to note that Bela was still sleeping. She'd only regained consciousness two days ago and after that had slept intermittently. There had been an emotional reunion between father and daughter that had brought tears to her eyes.

Kathryn relived the events of that day on Albion IV, in the dark, dingy basement where they'd found the girls.

Bela on a filthy mattress, her legs splayed, her hip bent at an unnatural angle, her face no longer a face but an impression of what had once been a healthy fifteen year old. It was covered with blood that had congealed over time, her mouth wide open and the shock when Kathryn realised that the dark gap had been a result of her teeth having been removed. Kathryn had known what that meant, had known that in the beginning Bela had tried to fight and bite.

The young girl had long ago lost the battle and the will to fight. She had lain there and every alien that entered that cubicle raped her. In the beginning, Kathryn remembered from her own terrifying experiences, she had been raped like that. Daryl had had no compunction in allowing his wife to be cruelly assaulted in that way.

Kathryn had recognised all the signs, had realised in a moment of extreme clarity just what Chakotay meant when he tried to warn her. The terror of her own experiences was hazy because she'd been constantly drugged. Here she saw the shocking reality.

_I am her…_

And then Lon had rushed past her, wrapped his little girl in a filthy covering and held her close to him. He had wept noisily, in a broken voice had promised that her ordeal was over and that she was safe.

_I am here and you can trust me, Kathryn…_

Kathryn remembered the promises Chakotay had made to her in the Glitter Pit and her trust in him.

Now she gazed at the face of young Bela. Bela had new teeth built into her gums, a procedure performed by the EMH who'd declared that he'd performed yet another medical wonder. There was a peacefulness about Bela's beautiful features that Kathryn knew would belie the anger and the memories of her dreadful experiences.

Bela's initial reaction when she first emerged from her coma was of tears that had sprung in her eyes the moment she'd seen her father's concerned face bending near hers. By that time, the EMH had healed all her broken bones, reset her jaw and fixed her teeth. Kathryn had been shocked that Bela's hip had been broken in two places, its cause leaving nothing to the imagination. Her face had been cleaned and all the bruises cleared. The EMH had pulled no punches when he'd told her, Chakotay and Lon that Bela's external sexual organs had been battered almost beyond repair.

Kathryn felt a sudden welling of tears as she watched the sleeping girl. The EMH had told them that Bela's rescue was in the nick of time. She would not have lasted more than another day or two.

And then Chakotay's heated vituperation hours after everyone was back on board the two vessels and she'd lashed at him for so callously murdering the men who crossed his path during the rescue.

_"You would have been dead in a year, Kathryn."_

Now, having witnessed the traumas of the young girls and women, listening to their testimonies, Kathryn realised how close to death she herself had come, that Chakotay had done what he needed to do and that he'd had seemingly little remorse killing off those men.

"Hi…"

Surprised to hear Bela's voice, Kathryn returned to the present, smiling at the young girl. Bela clutched her hand, something that she'd done whenever she'd woken up from her deep sleep. Kathryn understood the need for contact in the bright light, for normalcy.

"Hi, Bela. I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Bela didn't let go of Kathryn's hand, but Kathryn could see the lurking shadows, an interplay of hope and despair and joy.

"My father calls you Admiral Janeway - "

"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Kathryn Janeway and you are on the New Liberty."

"He told me he and Captain Chakotay killed those men."

Bela's lips were dry. Kathryn moved quickly to a counter and brought back a small glass of water. She lifted her to sit up and held the glass to the girl's mouth. Bela drank in very small sips but she was thirsty. Then she slumped back against the pillow, not releasing Kathryn's hand.

"I can move now," Bela said softly as she wiggled her toes and lifted one foot. "My bones and hip were broken, yet those men still - "  Bela paused, her eyes closing at the memory of what had been done to her.

_It is over, my beautiful little girl. It is over. You are safe now._

The words Lon Rivot had murmured like a mantra from the moment Bela was lifted on the biobed and refused to leave while the Doctor administered the first sedatives.

"You are safe now, here on the Liberty, under your father's care as well as Captain Chakotay's protection," Kathryn assured her again. "There is a woman on board, her name is Wadra. She is like a mother to all of us and will take care of you. You can talk to her any time you feel the need to, okay?"

"Can I not talk to you?" Bela asked.

"Of course. You can talk to me any time as well, okay? Our doctor has treated all your injuries. Another day here in the sick bay and he will discharge you."

Bela ran her tongue over her teeth, her eyes filling with tears at the knowledge that her ordeal was over.

"My father," she began slowly, "I was not obedient to him, Admiral. He warned me like any father would, I suppose, but I would not listen. I - " Another pause in which Bela's eyes closed and a tear seeped through her closed lids. "I will regret it forever, what happened to me."

"Your father has forgiven you, right from the start. He searched for you from the very moment you went missing and had not stopped until he met us on Krepek. He loves you!"

The young girl smiled for the first time.

"I know that now."

"Bela, I want you to know that you are not alone, you understand? The other women on the ship suffered the same ordeals - "

"Did you suffer too, Admiral Janeway?"

Bela's eyes were so direct, so earnest, Kathryn didn't want to lie to the young girl. In a blinding flash of insight, she realised that she had to own her trauma, acknowledge it to herself and to others who had suffered the same fate. She blinked back a tear and squeezed Bela's hand gently.

"Yes…yes, Bela, I was a victim like you, I suffered like you - "

Bela smiled and Kathryn's spirits lifted a little. This young girl, she realised, was strong.

"And then Captain Chakotay came and rescued you."

"He did indeed save my life, for which I shall forever remain in his debt."

"I do not know how I can repay him."

"You can do so by catching up on the two years of schooling that you lost. He would like that, and I am sure your father would welcome it as well. There are four young cadets on board, a little younger than you. They are Krepekeans - "

"My species cousins - "

"Yes. You can join them."

"I would like that. I would very much like that."

Bela smiled again, and Kathryn thought how the young girl's face transformed to an aching kind of beauty. She stayed with Bela for a few more minutes until the girl's eyes began to droop. Then Kathryn left the sick bay quietly.

She needed to speak with Chakotay.

**********

How did he get to be so mad at Kathryn? How? Chakotay lay on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. After that first day when they'd transported all the girls to the ship, and after their argument, he hadn't had a decent conversation with her.

He kept reliving that day and he knew he'd have the spectre of what he'd seen and what he'd done visit him even in his sleep. Like it had happened every time he had gone into deep cover to extract the victims. For weeks he'd have the horror of their experiences tearing into his brain.

He drew in a deep breath. Kathryn had been uncharacteristically unrelenting. He hadn't expected her reaction, especially after he'd warned her about tapping into his anger and the admirals' 'licence to kill' directive.

"God, Kathryn…"

"You killed those men in cold blood!" it had burst from her the moment they'd ensured that Bela and her father were in sick bay and the other women directed to safety by Isner and his small crew. Wadra had kept Andrew with her when she'd noticed Kathryn's anger and his own resolute position indicating that he wasn't going to listen to her.

"I did what I had to do. Did you think for one moment that it gave me any pleasure?"

"That's just it! You seemed to enjoy slashing those men's throats! You even killed the clients - "

"Rapists, Kathryn! They are the scum of the earth. They have the freedom to rape, violating a woman, especially one as young as Bela, so they have no conscience! None at all! The world is full of men like that. Your husband was one of them!"

It was a low blow but their so-called polite conversation had quickly degenerated into a full blown argument. Kathryn had finally seen first hand with eyes wide open the kind of men he'd been dealing with - slave traders and those men who paid for the pleasure of raping abducted young girls. To him there was no difference during those moments he used his d'k tahg and drove it into the throats of the perpetrators. There'd been so many times he'd been caught off guard and he'd limp back to his ship and into the sick bay where the EMH first berated him then treated his wounds.

What the hell did Kathryn know? But he'd struck at a raw point in Kathryn's life. He was contrite as he stepped forward to apologise. But she flinched and practically jumped out of his reach.

"You would strike me when I'm down, Chakotay? Since when has this warrior resorted to underhand tactics? You never fought dirty - "

"I am sorry. But don't you see? Those situations in which I've always found myself, it was kill or be killed. You do not know the half of what happens in this business, Janeway. Why do you think I've plotted courses that avoided certain sectors? I'm a wanted man because I spoiled their lucrative business!"

"You are also a Starfleet officer, trained to respect the sanctity of life!" she'd almost yelled, her words heated, impassioned.

"You saw Bela! You saw her injuries! A man lay on top of that child with no regard for her broken body, the injuries she already had! He was fucking an unconscious girl, for the love of God, Kathryn! An unconscious girl!" he'd repeated.

He'd closed his eyes at the scene just before Kathryn and Lon had entered that cubicle. A large alien, too big for what looked like a little girl lying on the dirty mattress, her legs splayed wide, one bent at an unnatural angle. His fury had been instant, but he knew Lon would deal with that alien. He, Chakotay, had run into the other kiosks and hauled the men outside. Some had been armed and were ready to strike him, but he was prepared for them.

Perhaps it was the awful grating sound of his blade tearing across the throat of a perpetrator that unsettled Kathryn, the way the scoundrel simply slid to the floor that got to her. He'd seen the horror on her face as she'd stood at the entrance looking into the corridor and saw him in action. He’d known how appalled she would be, that those long ago threats to Lessing were mostly just threats, although her intention had been clear. But that Kathryn on Voyager had almost crossed the line.

"Chakotay," she'd relented, "I know you did what you had to do. It was just terrible for me to see. Whatever I and all those unfortunate girls have suffered, a life is a life, in my books."

"So it's okay that men gang-rape a young girl until she dies of her injuries? That's okay? Kathryn, you would not have lasted another year with Dorron, you understand? Not another year. I shudder to think what then would have happened to little Andrew!"

That had pulled her up short. His words cut into her, and he could see the indecision, the uncertainty in her eyes before that too changed to a kind of uneasy acceptance.

"I shall not get used to this, Chakotay," she'd told him before stepping into his embrace, leaning her head against his chest. They'd stayed like that for a long time before she stirred. When Kathryn finally released him, her eyes were still a little sad.

"I have to see to Andrew," she'd told him before leaving the bridge. He'd gone to sick bay again where the EMH delivered a litany of Bela's injuries. Her father wouldn't leave his daughter's side and resolved to remain in sick bay until she opened her eyes. Bela's condition was the worst he'd seen of all the girls and women he'd rescued in his search for Kathryn. He remembered every time he looked into the grateful eyes of a rescued victim, Admiral Paris' words: "On your way, Captain, you will be entering the dark side of humanity. Save whom you can until you find Kathryn Janeway."

The EMH had kept the report as impartial as he could, though Chakotay had been certain that there was a goodly amount of photonic seething as he'd begun to treat Bela.

That night his commbadge had begun pulsing again in a frenzy of vibrations. He'd called Neam and Joda to pilot the rest of the night while he'd rushed to Kathryn's cabin. Once there, he'd seen how she'd thrown off the covers, her hands flailing as she tried to ward off her invisible assailant.

He'd woken her gently, held her in his arms then spooned her body to his once her trembling had subsided. Not a word was spoken between them, but the way Kathryn had sighed and fallen instantly asleep again was evidence enough that she needed him.

Now he lay staring at the ceiling wondering whether Kathryn would need him just a little more than just holding her while she slept.

It would be nice, was his last thought as he drifted into sleep, to have her need him for much more than a spoon.

****

END CHAPTER 20


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We learn about Marine Provost.

* * *

 

She hadn't been able to speak with Chakotay after all. The day had flown by after Kathryn's visit to sick bay. Bela was recuperating and physically at least, almost completely healed. Together with Linnea, Lon Rivot had planned a catch-up programme of the two years of schooling Bela had missed.

Kathryn had not been surprised that a chemistry had sprung up between Linnea and Lon. The Krepekean woman was kindness itself, and she had immediately taken to the young girl lying unconscious on the biobed. Linnea had remained with the patient while Bela's father had taken a break from his vigil. Then Linnea had calmly taken a damp cloth and swabbed Bela's face, or sometimes just sat holding her hand

Kathryn had popped in from time to time to witness the progress the EMH had made in treating the patient. Linnea had also assisted with the treatment of the other women before they were transported to Isner's vessel.

All was going according to plan at the moment. They had three months of travel at maximum warp. Although they could be in Earth's orbit sooner, Chakotay had wanted to delay their journey in order to flush out one or two more nests where girls were held.

In a strange way, Kathryn felt her own incarceration to have been mild compared to what Bela and other women in that situation endured. Bela would have been dead within a day or two if they hadn't found her in that dingy hole.

It had been Chakotay's accusation when they'd argued.

_You would have been dead in two years if I hadn't find you…_

She grudgingly admitted the truth of Chakotay's words. It was either dead or ending up like Linnea whose external and internal organs had been damaged to such an extent that she could never be intimate with a man, would never bear a child.

That would have been my fate, Kathryn thought. And Andrew? What would have happened to him?

It was that sobering realisation that caused her to take a more reasonable look at Chakotay’s methods.

She was still wide awake and Chakotay had already retired to his cabin. The two boys were at the helm until 2400 after which he would resume his duty on the bridge. The girls and the two older women were discovering the wonders of the holodeck and were entranced by the holonovels created by one Lieutenant Tom Paris. They especially liked _The Moonstone_!

She had only Andrew to worry about now. Chakotay had come in earlier to read to their son, after which Andrew had refused to sleep, insisting he wanted to go with his father to the bridge. Dealing with a recalcitrant child was new for Kathryn and it had taken some ingenious white lies to calm Andrew. He'd agreed to sleep only after Chakotay promised he could learn to fly in a simulation in the holodeck the next day.

Kathryn smiled indulgently as she watched Drew sleep like an angel, his little face scrubbed clean and looking totally innocent.

Drew. Since his birth that was what she had called him. Since her rescue she'd reverted to his full name. It felt better, almost as if a new name gave her and her son a new identity, that being Andrew and Kathryn suddenly, magically, wiped away three years of her life that would forever be her greatest trauma.

Andrew. They'd decided his middle name should be Kolopak. Chakotay loved Andrew fiercely and would protect their son as he'd protected her. It was a love that grew stronger by the day. Kathryn sighed as she wondered whether Chakotay would ever really love her unconditionally. She'd wondered whether her life as a sex dancer didn't influence him negatively. Shrugging that stray thought away she knew that she was wrong in thinking that way. Chakotay would never hold her past against her.

But since that first day of the girls' rescue, since their heated exchange of words in which both said unkind things to one another, they hadn't talked much aside from the normal day-to-day running of the ship and overseeing the education of the teenagers they had on board.

It was as if they’d never had a confrontation about his killing instincts. It was swept under the carpet, a personal matter that both seemed reluctant to touch again. Yet Kathryn realised the unresolved air about that conversation simmered, that she sensed something much more than simply accusing him of being a deadly killer.

This morning she'd spent a good two hours studying his logs of the past two years, beginning at the earliest point. Only one of the log entries had been encrypted and she'd wondered why. The entry had a woman's name and for a moment she'd experienced a tinge of jealousy that Chakotay didn't name every one of his logs for her.

But Marine Provost had been embedded with several Maquis encrytions. She'd been out of the Federation and Voyager loop for so long her decoding skills were rusty trying to decrypt the log with the name Marine Provost.

After ensuring that Andrew was fast asleep, Kathryn prepared to leave her quarters to confront Chakotay, talk to him, find the old spark and companionship that had always existed between them. She couldn't stand not talking, being mad at him. It wore her down and caused her nightmares again. She smiled grimly. The night after they'd argued she must have had another of her nightmares for he'd come to her bed and slipped in behind her. It was such a comforting feeling that she'd fallen asleep quickly after that. The agonies of men doing things to her body, gone for at least a good many hours.

Strange how in the dead of night, Chakotay could come to her bed and comfort her, not a single word spoken. By morning she was disappointed to find him gone.

When she reached Chakotay's door, she smiled again when she remembered that one night she'd entered and danced for him, seducing him in the process. She'd still had the drugs in her system then and had thought she was Majja. It had taken great control on Chakotay's part to bring her down gently and remind her that her ordeal was over.

Now the door slid open and she entered the darkened cabin, expecting to see him sitting on his couch reading a book. But it was low illumination, perhaps as low as fifteen percent, too dim to be reading. Yet, it was so like Chakotay to hug the darkness.

Suddenly she heard an agonised kind of groaning coming from his bedroom.

"Chakotay…?"

Her voice was soft, tentative, afraid that she'd already breached his privacy. Kathryn moved cautiously to his room, his groaning louder, more distressed. He was thrashing wildly, one hand wielding only what appeared to be a weapon, warding off danger it seemed.

"Chakotay!"

Kathryn rushed forward. Chakotay's long hair was loose, fanning about him, his face heavy with rage, eyes bulging. What was happening to him? What raging demon was he trying to fight? She got on the bed and tried to take his hand, but he was flailing about so violently that he struck her on the jaw. Kathryn flew off the bed, momentarily stunned, her jaw aching. Tears sprang in her eyes.

"Chakotay!

Then she slapped his face several times quite hard. It seemed to produce the desired result as Chakotay suddenly lifted himself to a sitting position, crying out, "Die, die, you miserable bitch!" Another slap across the face and the raging stopped abruptly.

Chakotay woke from his nightmare, at first glancing around with unseeing eyes. Then he saw her. Kathryn drew in her breath sharply at the look of total desolation in his eyes. But once the connection was made, he visibly changed to normality, the feral look changing to recognition.

"Kathryn?"

His voice was hoarse, low. Kathryn marvelled at how attractive Chakotay looked with his hair all over his shoulders, hanging long and sleek down the back. She'd gotten so used to his ponytail, the unyielding, strong features, the strength that oozed from him. But now he looked slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry I slapped you a few times there," she quipped, rubbing her jaw as she spoke.

He noticed, then touched her cheek gently. "Did I strike you?" he asked, his penitent look her undoing as she tried to choke back a sob.

She nodded. "Don't worry. A slight headache the Doctor can fix. What about you? That was some nightmare, Chakotay," she said, hardly able to keep the concern from her voice. "You seemed very troubled…"  She paused and when he didn't respond but kept his gaze on her, she tried to urge him again. "Care to tell me about it?"

Kathryn sighed when his face became blank, his lips pursing. Where was he dwelling? she wondered.

"Who is Marine Provost, Chakotay?"

She almost fell off the bed as Chakotay reacted so aggressively that she instantly regretted that she asked the question.

"Okay, sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

He was breathing again with difficulty. Was this what happened the nights he didn't spend in her bed to comfort her and Andrew? In his own quarters, away from unpleasant interfering, he had nothing to contain the terrors of his own nightmares and they seemed to rage out of control. She sat on the bed, pulled the cover over them both and held him, pressing him to rest his head against the pillow. He gave a deep, deep sigh as he looked at her, taking her hand in his.

"I killed her, Kathryn. In cold blood."

His eyes rolled a bit and became glazed as he relived those memories.

***

Marine Provost.

A year into his journey he received a tip-off that a trafficking cell was operating in a certain sector. Only seven star systems, but each with seven or more planets. It was a hell of a lot of work to find a needle in that haystack. But the tip had narrowed down his search.

In the past year, he'd saved more than a hundred girls and had overseen their return to their homeworlds. At one time point the ship became too small but the women had been grateful for their freedom. One of them had offered to crew for him. They'd spent a week together and he hadn't been able to reconcile that a woman whose life he’d just saved from a sex trafficker could willingly share his bed.

After a week, he woke up one morning with the distinct realisation that he was missing something. It was his mission, his original goal to find Kathryn. For a week, he had forgotten that Kathryn was out there, that the admirals had sent him to find her and rescue others while he searched for her.

He'd almost forgotten but then quietly explained to the alien woman whom he dropped off at a space station where she'd assured him a family member was waiting to take her home. For two years he wondered whether she really got home.

Chakotay was guided to a space station in the sector where he'd been told several girls were held prisoner as sex slaves. He was prepared, carried a d'k tahg in the boot of his right leg, his phaser attached to his belt and two other hidden daggers.

He'd arrived at _Dondreda Space Station_ , two lightyears  from the last star system and a loading port to for the next sector. A lot was going on there -  space trucks carrying freight, mostly males looking for a bit of entertainment away from the prying eyes of their spouses. Chakotay shook his head when he thought how easy it was for men to stray from perfectly good relationships to damage someone else's innocent child.

The port authorities had given permission to dock. It was easy buying off officials since the admirals had made certain he carried enough latinum. He'd leave again within twenty four hours after refuelling. For once he regretted not having some of the Voyager crew with him. But mindful of his mission, he knew it had to be kept covert. In his handy canvas sling bag he carried his scientific tricorder and a site-to-site transporter. Doc remained online, ready to do emergency beam-outs as an additional security measure. The New Liberty was protected by a forcefield, his standard fortification against marauders. Because he traveled solo, he needed the EMH activated at all times while he was off his vessel.

Chakotay carried his tricorder, surreptitiously taking readings. He'd heard one female was a human-Cardassian hybrid and used the human genetic markers to guide him to a location.

Once he got within twenty metres of the place, he smiled grimly. It was the same everywhere -  restaurants, pubs, song and dance establishments serving as a front for more nefarious activities, so many times right under the noses of so-called respected officials of a space station or cities on homeworlds. It made him wonder whether city officials and space port law enforcement weren't in on the subterfuge.

He stopped in front of what his tricorder picked up as "Clovis Bar and Grill" and nodded to the doorman, at the same time pushing two bars of latinum pulled from his jacket pocket into the hand of the alien who had an elongated head and fish-like eyes.

"You wish to be…entertained, yes?"

Chakotay nodded again as the doorman waved to someone in the bar. Another alien looking like the doorman rushed forward.

"Our visitor seeks entertainment, Q'rol. Take him to Marine. She is in need of a man tonight."

"Certainly. Follow me."

He followed Q'rol, the alien moving swiftly through the throng of visitors, down a corridor to his right, then turned left and walked about ten paces. At the door Q'rol banged hard with his flat hand.

"Visitors!" he yelled.

A minute later the door opened. Chakotay was ready, adrenaline pumping, his heart racing. Already he'd detected ten females if he counted the woman the doorman called Marine.

"What do you want?" the woman asked, a smile straining at her mouth. "Straight up fuck, or chains, blades and every other implement?"

"Chains and blades cost more?" Chakotay asked. Inwardly he shook, realising how some women were trussed up and raped. Not showing his shock, he stepped inside the room, into the woman's space.

"Of course. That will be three bars of latinum to fuck all night. Twelve hours and Marine Provost is yours."

The woman smiled again as if she knew something Chakotay didn't. He also didn't notice the woman winking to the barman who'd guided Chakotay down the corridor, but only heard an ugly chuckle.

"I'm good," he muttered, clutching his canvas bag tighter to him, mentally feeling for his d'k tahg and other weapons hidden on his person. Why did these types never search for weapons? But then, he was merely acting to type as many so-called clients liked to cut and snip their victims. All part of the sex slave racket.

"Follow me."

He felt his neck hair rising, wondering if something was about to happen. He wasn't into kinky sex and he wasn't going to bed another woman who offered to crew for him. He'd learnt his lesson.

_Be careful_

While walking behind the alien woman, he checked his tricorder, relieved that it still showed he could be beamed out without any interference. He had to collect more than ten victims. For that he'd scan them before the EMH could effect a transport. Now he had to get to Marine Provost. She was going to be his ticket out.

"Here. She is inside. Your latinum ensures a night of chains, blades and blindfolds. Have a good fuck, Mr…?"

"Amarr," he muttered under his breath, deliberately working himself into an arousal so the alien could see he meant business.

"Good. I see you're primed. All yours," the woman said before opening the door for him.

First thing he noticed was a set of chains with handcuffs against a wall. A bed in the middle of the room with a chain hanging from the ceiling. At the end of the chain was a harness. He smiled grimly, knowing that a participant was tied into the harness, legs and arms splayed apart so that at no point could she change her position, scratch if she itched, or fight if she needed to. She could be lowered at the behest of the client and simply be impaled onto the cock of the man. He'd seen aliens with sex organs too large to enter any woman too small to accommodate him. He'd seen it before, had rescued a woman still tied to the leather belts and had her transported from it directly to the New Liberty's sick bay.

As before, he was in the den of the damned.

"Hello…" a husky voice sounded, followed by a woman who stepped from behind a small partition. She was fully dressed, he noticed. He'd have to rip her clothing from her body, be intent on mauling her the entire night.

What surprised him was her beauty. A human-Cardassian hybrid too far from both worlds that gave birth to her.

"Hey. Are you - ?"

"Marine Provost. You paid. I am yours."

"You are half human - "

"That I am. Want to fuck?"

"I want to take you out of here. You are being held against your will, you and nine other women, Marine.

She appeared fearful, and he could have sworn he saw tears forming in her eyes.

"I will need your help to get the other women."

"Yes…yes, I will help. Come," she said softly, urgently, grabbing his arm and guiding him out of the room. "Here, no one will see us, Amarr."

"Good."

"Say," Marine began, "I've seen a woman who was completely fucked up, human like you, but with the fairest skin, blue eyes, red-brown hair. Somewhere in the next sectors servicing giant-cocked aliens."

Something exploded in his head.

"What-what did you say?"

"What I said. Don't know anymore. Hedrak System was where she last was. Great fuck, I heard. She's dead, I guess. "

Marine's extra long finger nails dug into his arm as she pulled him to the next room. He wanted to ask more about the woman she'd seen, but would wait until he had all the victims transported to his ship. She smelled like pheromones and extra heady perfume. It went to his head. He had to fight the attraction, for he had a mission.

Why was he not prepared for what he'd seen?  Marine's beauty had thrown him a little, her look of innocence had convinced him of her desire for freedom.

"Here he is! A traitor! We knew about him!" she screamed as she pushed him into the room where several men were waiting. Only then did he realise the danger he was in and drew his dagger.

 

They attacked him, but he fended them off, fighting hard, his dagger ramming home every time his elbow swung higher than his shoulder. He tried to reach for his second dagger, found it gone!

"Is this what you're looking for, human!" Marine screamed, holding the dagger in her hand, priming to strike him.

Caught off guard, he felt a knife ripping through his chest. He gave an agonised cry as he dimly heard "You're not getting our girls. We know what you do!"

Then he felt another thud against his chest. He looked dazedly at Marine, the beautiful human-Cardassian woman, realising her fear and tears of earlier were simply a ruse to trap him. She morphed into a malevolent witch, her eyes filled with evil, the loud cackle, lips pulled away from teeth that made her look ugly. In the instant he took all of it in, Marine lunged for him, driving the dagger deep into his chest.

Did he have time to hit his commbadge as he sank to the floor? He didn't know. The great spirits of his fathers must have given him the strength to raise himself with superhuman strength as he grabbed Marine Provost by her hair and slashed her throat, grating his d'k tahg so fiercely that her head skewered off her neck, dropping limply over her back, blood spurting like an overpressured steam pipe all over the room. Marine's headless body shuddered in its death throes as it plunged backwards and hit the floor.

Dazed by the pain that seared his body like a wildfire, he saw through the haze the three men lunging for him. He gave an agonised cry, then mercifully felt himself enveloped in the transporter beam.

*********

Chakotay lay exhausted after recounting the story of the woman who, it became clear, didn't want to be rescued. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, dripping into the pillow. His gaze remained fixed at a point on the ceiling, wide open eyes in which she could picture the horror of those events. He'd been stabbed thrice during the attack, yet practically remained on his feet.

His mouth was open, breathing hard like one who could very easily lift a dagger and slit  someone's throat again.

This time Kathryn dared not touch him. Chakotay flinched as heat from her hands and face close to him created pain in his nerve endings. So she sat back and waited for the laboured wheezing to end. He was disinclined to talk further, although she could discern a desire to continue. He was in Hades, a murky, dark, debauched dwelling place, one that kept him imprisoned, jealously guarding its son of darkness, only spewing him out once injured and dying, with no use for him anymore.

She felt tears and tried to blink them back as she realised how Chakotay's world of rescue was entering the caverns of carnality and corruption, how immorality and debauchery continued to cling to his person when he finished a mission. He killed because he could not help himself, for malevolence rubbed off on him. Not only that, the story underscored how his dictum of "kill or be killed" became a paramount mode of defence. Every single time he entered a den of iniquity, he'd had fight to the death. It was not merely killing for killing's sake. Chakotay literally had to defend himself.

Only now could she understand the reasoning for his argument after Bela and the other girls were rescued. His outrage was her outrage, but it had to be seen against the complete danger in which Chakotay worked when he rescued slave girls.

If she needed counselling when they returned to Earth, Chakotay, Kathryn believed, needed it more.

"You got out in time," she offered softly, afraid to touch his face. She so much wanted to comfort him.

"Marine's dagger was still stuck in my chest. I saw myself on the biobed, saw the EMH battling to repair my heart."

"She didn't want to be rescued."

"I realised too late that there were those who had become so used to that lifestyle, they didn't know any better or how to function outside of it. Marine was one of them."

"Of all the logs that I accessed, that was the one I couldn't open. You didn't want me to read it."

"Now you know why."

"Because you were embarrassed when Marine tricked you?"

For the first time Chakotay turned his face to look at her. A tired smile formed as he reached to touch her hand.

"That about sums it up."

"What now?"

"Now we continue our journey," he said tiredly, his eyes already beginning to droop

Sighing, Kathryn remained with Chakotay until he fell asleep. With his face at rest he looked so vulnerable her heart ached for him.

She turned to what looked like a cupboard, finding a light coverlet there.

"Oh, Chakotay," she whispered as she gently covered him with the quilt, "when I think about it, we're all broken dolls."

***************** 

END CHAPTER 21


	22. Chapter 22

* * *

 

Next morning Chakotay woke, having dreamed that Kathryn had been in the cabin with him. Sighing, he lay back, staring at the ceiling like he had the previous night but with a certain lightness in his being. He soaked in the feeling, thinking of Kathryn, of a future with her.

He felt better than he had in years. He hadn't realised how traveling alone had eaten into him. With no crew to talk to except the EMH, it corroded and tore at his self-preservation. Until Kathryn came on board with Andrew, Linnea and Wadra, and before his interactions with Isner, he'd begun to believe he had no tongue, and all the conversations he conducted were in his head. There were times he even found he was talking aloud to himself.

That part of his existence  on the New Liberty had turned him into a reactionary killing machine, who was only concerned with getting in and getting the victims away from harm. Now he was slowly forced to conduct whole conversations with another person and to be faced with that person's outrage and objections. Before he'd been answerable to no one except when he reported to the admirals.

During the day he could interact, he could counsel, teach, smile grimly, plan the next mission with four young people looking wide-eyed at him. He could deal with Andrew's laughs that rose from his little stomach. Those things he could handle with ease.

But the dreams were never dreams. He'd had nightmares since Owen Paris sent him in a vessel which resembled a derelict with all the modern technology the Federation had at its disposal, to search for Kathryn and hunt down criminals who didn't deserve the designation of men. He’d had nightmares since Owen Paris first sent him out to search for Kathryn.    

He felt better, lighter, all because of Kathryn. He'd dreamed again of the night Marine Provost led him into an ambush, thrown by her unusual beauty, then shocked by her lust, deceived by her purported desire to be free. But it was clear they'd known he was coming. It had taken every ounce of his fighting spirit to get out of that hell hole alive.

He'd had to abandon his rescue, leave at least nine women at the mercy of sexual predators while fighting for his life. But he'd killed Marine. He'd scored his dagger across her throat as hard and with as much venom as he'd ever had in him, so much anger and revulsion, and decapitated her.

Even as he lost consciousness, he could see Marine's head dropping away from her neck. In that moment she was not a woman, an innocent whom he had to treat with compassion. She was the enemy.

There had been no one he could talk to, no one who could understand the demons that drove him, and so he chose never to speak of it to anyone. Until last night when he had been caught in his nightmare, one he hadn't had since Kathryn had come on board.

And her hand that touched his brow was cool and soothed him. Her touch encouraged him speak of the evil of his work, of a woman who did not want to be rescued. Like a wound that had festered for years, swollen with pus that wouldn't break through and causing him to remain hard and uncompromising even when he didn't want to be, Kathryn's touch broke through.

Every sordid detail oozed from him and offered the relief and the freedom he craved. Yet, even as it cleansed him, he couldn't endure to be touched. He’d felt the pain like a thousand needles pricking with unremitting regularity until finally, when he finished, he reached for Kathryn's hand.

And Kathryn understood.

Chakotay smiled. It was time he got up. Kathryn had let him sleep through although he was supposed to go on duty during Gamma shift. She would have made arrangements for bridge duty. Sighing again, he got up, filled with renewed vigour.

That and a new look Chakotay. So he tapped his commbadge.

"Chakotay to Linnea."

"Linnea here. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Please, call me Chakotay. And yes, there is something I want you to do for me."

************

**Two hours later…**

Kathryn Janeway sat in the mess hall trying to get Andrew to eat his cereal. He was still not completely used to human food, and sometimes cried for Krepekean mush which Wadra used to give him. It was a little battle dealing with Andrew and suddenly she wished Chakotay was there. Andrew listened to him and did everything when Chakotay coaxed him to comply.

"Please, Andrew, this is good food. Look, alphabet corn pops. You try eating J and C for Mommy please?"

"Don't want!"

Sighing, Kathryn pushed back the bowl, left Andrew on the chair and marched to the replicator where she ordered a small bowl of Krepekean mush. She walked back to the table and mixed some of the mush with Andrew's corn pops.

"There. You don't eat that, you cannot play with Flotter and Treevis."

"No!"

"Yes. Eat. Now."

She didn't raise her voice, just became more firm, cursing once again the fact that she still needed to bond fully with her child. Andrew could be stubborn sometimes. Too stubborn for her liking. She suddenly remembered how her mother used to coax Phoebe into eating her food. Phoebe who had been just as stubborn as a child.

"Mommy, I eat all my porridge, okay?"

_Okay?_

"Fine. I'll be happy. Then we play a little, and Mommy read to you. Wadra will take you to the holodeck."

"No! You take me. Papa take me!"

Kathryn insisted Andrew eat because she knew and when he'd finished, she placed the empty bowl in the recycler. Soon the youngsters would arrive in the mess hall for their breakfast. She had entered recipes and ingredients for Krepekean foods for the replicators to dispense. The teenagers too needed to get used to all the foods of the various homeworlds of the Federation. Kathryn smiled. They loved pecan pies, peanut butter sandwiches and banana pancakes.

She waited for Wadra to take Andrew off her hands for at least half the day. She had work to do, one of her tasks teaching science to the four cadets to bring them up to speed with Earth's high schools. She wanted to look in on Bela as well. That young girl was ready to leave sick bay. Bela'd insisted she wanted to get up because lying down made her remember things, but activity also made her dizzy. For her species, Lon had indicated that she was way below her weight norm and needed nutritional supplements and good food.

Andrew crowed when the mess hall doors opened while Kathryn sighed with relief as Wadra entered. Wadra knew just how to calm Andrew and entertain him. These days the youngsters also taught Andrew some of the nursery rhymes they found in the database. She greeted Wadra, exchanged a few words with her, gave her the PADD that included her duties for the day. Andrew left with Wadra without saying goodbye to his mother. Near the door Kathryn could hear him sing something about "Daddy finger."

Kathryn sat down and mulled over Chakotay and what he'd experienced the night before. She'd left after he'd fallen asleep but couldn't stop wondering about his life on the New Liberty the last three years. His official logs simply recounted events; the few personal logs that he'd allowed her to read merely underlined his frustration at not being able to find her.

The injuries he incurred every time he entered places to rescue someone were brushed over as if they were nothing. That bothered her. Even on Voyager, he'd frustrated her by downplaying his work or his importance or the vital function he performed. Always shrugging it off as nothing.

Even now.

The mess hall door opened again and she looked up distractedly from the PADD she was studying. Then her eyes widened, followed by a deep frown before alarm set in. She drew in her breath sharply, her lips suddenly gone dry.

Chakotay.

She'd dreamed often of him, even before she married Daryl Wentworth, when her world had been dark and hopeless, knowing there could never be anything between them. She'd seen Chakotay from time to time when their paths crossed at Headquarters, dressed in the new uniforms of Starfleet, the grey overlapping the red, four rank pips against his collar.

_"If you ask me the same question, Chakotay, I promise undying devotion to you."_

_"I'll be by your side, wherever you call home…"_

Her heart ached those times she imagined saying those words and she remembered what it had taken her not to run to him and beg him to take her back, to change his mind.

Those two months before she left with Daryl, she'd seen Chakotay around Headquarters and he'd looked more Starfleet than she'd ever seen him on Voyager, as if he'd shrugged off his renegade persona. His uniform moulded to his body, boots shiny and appearing brand new. He'd kept his hair cropped short, like during their Voyager days, looking every inch a captain, in charge, the air of command strongly emanating from him. Then his half smile, the one that caused a only a hint of his dimples deepening, like one who waited for her to make a move.

Why had she not moved then? Why did she not talk to him, tell him? Anything, just so he knew how she felt?

Her warring thoughts brought her to the present. Kathryn closed her eyes as she gaped at Chakotay standing inside the door of the mess hall.

In uniform.

Hair cropped short like she remembered, like she had always imagined him, even when she had flashes of memories during her years in captivity. Sometimes she'd seen him in other clothes, but most of the time like now, looking every inch a Starfleet officer far, far removed from the rebel who could kill a man or woman in cold-blood.

That was when it hit her. A thousand possibilities raced through her at his changed appearance, but it was what he represented that caused her to stand up from her chair and retreat a few steps. Already she felt the onset of tears, the shortness of breath that tightened her chest causing a stinging pain in her ears. She grasped at her bosom and gave a little cry of distress.

Blinded by an illogical fear that his uniform represented Starfleet who would know about her trials and sufferings, she allowed the tormenting thoughts to unnerve her. They would _know_. With him on this vessel, she felt safe, protected. With him on this vessel, she could dream again new things, clean things. Others on the ship had been in the same situation with her so she had nothing to hide from them. What they suffered she suffered too.

Now Chakotay, Starfleet captain, reminded her it was time to go home and meet the real world. She was not ready for that world! They would point ugly fingers, laugh, condemn, judge!

She didn't hear his alarmed cry as he called her name. But his approach felt like an alien swooping down on her defenceless body.

"Don't…don't come near me, please."

"Kathryn, you are distressed! What is the matter?" he asked.

She backed against the bulkhead, hands in front of her trying to fend him off.

"You are in-in uniform," she whispered on a  little stammer.

"It's what I decided this morning. Linnea cut my hair - "

"When will we be home?" she demanded, ignoring his words. "When?"

"It's not as if you don't know. We will be home in two months travelling at maximum warp."

"I have to face them! I cannot do it, Chakotay. They know I'm a whore, nothing more. A Starfleet admiral who was prostituted! They will know! They will say 'There goes that admiral. She was whored by every male in the Gamma Quadrant.' How can I ever face them?"

********

He'd been feeling good since he woke this morning. Kathryn had so much to do with this lightness in him. To her and her alone he could confess the things that had weighed so heavily and bogged him down. He had been too long in the business of chasing criminals.

A communiqué from Admiral Paris early in his first year: _Remember, you cannot save all of them._

That was why he felt this new vigour this morning. He could never reconcile that aspect of his work, that what he was doing was scraping the tip of the iceberg, that he'd become accustomed to killing without conscience. He'd had to close his eyes and bang his head so many times to shut out the possibility of so many who still needed help.

Now he could accept that those he saved, he at least alleviated their pain, bringing him some measure of reward.

So he'd made a big decision as he got up and spoke with Linnea. First order of business was to shed his Maquis persona although he acknowledged that his work was not finished. He touched his ponytail, grinning how his hair had grown so long since he'd left Federation space and only had time to trim and very badly too. He hadn't really cared, for it had added to his image of chasing space criminals.

When his door chimed, he quickly let Linnea in.

"Captain," she'd said in awed tones as she looked around her, taking in the pictures against the bulkheads, his medicine wheel, a combat weapon on a bracket taking pride of place in the lounge. She could see through a doorway the bedroom because the edge of the bed was visible, an ornate quilt thrown over it.

"Linnea, thank you for responding so quickly. I need you to do something for me, but please, when you're done, keep it to yourself for now, understand?"

"I understand," Linnea said, gasping aloud when Chakotay removed the band from his ponytail. His hair fell about his face and gave him a tribal appearance. Whatever tribe he belonged to, for she did not believe him to be any normal human from the planet Earth, he was a prime and handsome specimen. And then she thought how lucky Kathryn Janeway was that a warrior would  search an entire quadrant for her.

"How short do you want your hair, sir?" she asked.

Chakotay flicked on his console and showed her a picture, an official photograph taken before he left Federation space.

"There. All my hair off. Like that," he ordered, looking at Linnea to see the surprise in her widening eyes.

"That short?" she asked. She had scissors in her cabin with which she'd cut Kathryn's hair. Pity she didn't know beforehand what Captain Chakotay wanted with her.

"Yes."

He walked to his replicator after he'd showed her pictures of shears and other implements she'd need.

"And a pair of scissors too, Captain," she said softly.

"Done."

For the next half an hour, Linnea cut and snipped, his tresses falling about their feet. It was liberating, literally a weight off him. When she was finished, she stood behind him, facing his reflection in the mirror.

"There, I think that should do it, Captain."

Chakotay nodded, pleased at his hair cropped short again. He glanced up at her.

"Thank you. Don't worry, I'll clean up here. Remember, keep it under wraps for now."

Linnea wavered a little, wringing her hands together nervously.

"What?"

"She loves you, Captain," Linnea said slowly. "Even when we were captives, I'd see her gaze into the distance, unable to wake from a deep, dark dream. I always suspected there was a man she loved."

Chakotay smiled, then stood up.

"If you must know, the feeling is mutual. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her."

"I understand. I have to go. One of the boys also requested a hair cut."

Linnea scooted out of his quarters quietly and quickly.

Once Linnea was gone, he proceeded to shower and dress. Half an hour later he stood in front of the mirror, dressed in the new Starfleet officer's uniform. It felt good wearing it again, liked being cloaked in the red and greys of the captain's dress. He'd been out of it so long be was beginning to think he'd been born a renegade, born with a dagger sheathed in his boot, born to kill.

"There. That should do it. I feel better already. Now to surprise Kathryn."

He was suddenly in a hurry to get home.

"Computer, locate Kathryn Janeway."

"Admiral Janeway is in the mess hall."

So he made his way to the mess hall. He'd tell Kathryn that they would reduce their estimated time to reach home. Two months to be shortened to four weeks. Maybe then he could woo Kathryn properly and pray she would respond to him and agree to marry him as soon as he asked.

He approached the mess hall in time to see Wadra leave with Andrew. Wadra's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she saw him.

"I am sorry. I did not recognise you, Captain. It is clear you are a leader, as is Admiral Janeway."

"Thank you. And yes, Admiral Janeway is higher in rank. But don't tell her," he said in jest.

But Wadra wouldn't smile. Andrew crowed with laughter when he saw his father. He seemed to have recognised  Chakotay instantly. It could be because Kathryn must have shown him pictures in the New Liberty's database. The boy practically pitched out of Wadra's arms, but Chakotay was ready to catch him.

"I am taking him for his morning entertainment, Captain Chakotay," Wadra offered. "We will be in the holodeck. After that it's his nap time and after - "

"Don't worry so, Wadra," he reassured the old Krepekean woman for she still looked scared of him. "He is safe with you. Both Admiral Janeway and I don't mind you taking this lively little peanut off our hands for a day or so. The young people like him so they will enjoy playing with him. I will see Bela later today. I'll inform her father. I believe Admiral Janeway has given you your duties for the day?"

"Indeed, sir. Thank you."

*****

As Chakotay entered and paused just inside the door of the mess hall, he saw Kathryn standing near the back of the room.

He watched the emotions flit across her features. Then she backed against the bulkhead shielding her face as he approached. She was extremely distressed, her eyes filled with tears though they hovered and didn't spill from her. She grabbed her chest and gave a cry of alarm.

"Kathryn, you are distressed!" he said. "What is the matter?"

"You are in-in uniform," she whispered on a  little stammer.

"It's what I decided this morning. Linnea cut my hair - "

"When will we be home?" she demanded, ignoring his words. "When?"

"It's not as if you don't know. We will be home in two months travelling maximum warp."

"I have to face them! I cannot do it, Chakotay. They know I'm a whore, nothing more. A Starfleet admiral who had been prostituted! They will know! How can I ever face them?"

Chakotay frowned deeply, for Kathryn wasn't making much sense.

"Face your family? Your friends? The Starfleet brass? They know only that you have been captive. Owen Paris and your mother sensed the…other things. They love you, Kathryn - "

"You are them, don't you see? I thought I could forget, here on the New Liberty. I did forget. You are making me remember and so will they. I can already see their eyes, their questions, their _prying -_ "

He lunged forward and hauled her into his arms. She felt warm, and was completely beside herself. She was not Kathryn right now. He wasn't even sure who she was. Maybe she was Majja again, with Kathryn's eyes, Kathryn's body, Kathryn's dance, the men around her. He tried to console her but her body continued its uncontrollable shuddering. His good intentions had come to naught. Dressing up merely triggered her traumas, her shame at being seen by everyone , not as Kathryn Janeway who had been a victim of the most gutless assaults on her, not as Kathryn Janeway who had survived the horror of slave sex, but as a whore. He felt a prick of tears behind his eyelids.

The Kathryn who'd regained her confidence, her commanding presence, her equilibrium and developed remarkably quickly into the Kathryn of Voyager was gone for the moment. She was again Majja who desired his presence, his rescue of her.

"Kathryn, you are wrong. They understand. You have read their communiqués, you know what they feel and say - "

She lifted her face to him, once again that woman Majja who danced, who'd refused to weep at the unutterable depravity committed against her person. There were no tears, just bloodshot eyes that more than anything told him how she was weeping inside.

All because he was dressed as a Starfleet officer.

Never taking his eyes off her, he tapped his commbadge.

"Chakotay to the EMH. Transport Admiral Janeway and me to my quarters."

******

END CHAPTER 22


	23. Chapter 23

* * *

 

**Stardate 2381 -**

_To Admirals Owen Paris & Ponsonby - Starfleet Command - United Federation of Planets, Alpha Quadrant._

_G_ _reetings, gentlemen_  

_It seems that Kathryn's rehabilitation will take longer than we had anticipated. We cannot assume for a second that a person will be completely healed and restored to normality within weeks. Kathryn has had a relapse and at this point in time she is definitely not in a good place._

Chakotay turned from his console and peered at the woman lying on his bed. From time to time as he checked in on her, her body shuddered, yet not once had she descended into a paroxysm of wild crying. In that she'd made good on her promise not to weep again. He supposed many people found release in a good bout of tears. Yet he’d hoped that Kathryn would have done just that.

When the EMH transported them to his quarters, he made her lie on his bed. Her eyes had been glazed and he was a stranger to her again. It was as if she'd been drugged and couldn't remember her new life. She was Majja and he'd had a difficult time convincing her that Majja was the past, Majja was no more, that she was Kathryn Janeway, former captain of Voyager.

And all because his uniform reminded her that she'd have to face the real world - friends, colleagues, family members who were all in Starfleet, bearing the insignia of the Federation.

_I donned my uniform today for the first time in three years. When Kathryn saw it, it seemed to have triggered what she calls her shame. She feels she cannot face anyone, that her past will always be topics of gossip and conversation in Federation circles._

_Until today she had been quite fine, back to her own self, the old authoritative air about her, as long as I remained in the garb she was comfortable with._

He thought of the first half hour in which he battled to bring her to some normalcy.

"Kathryn. Kathryn! They will never judge you - "

"You say it like they know my shame already, Chakotay. They know I was a whore, one who was mated with every species - "

He stopped short of shaking her hard.

"What they know was that you were a victim, do you understand that? A victim!"

But Kathryn was in a belligerent mood. She was Majja the dancer and she was Kathryn the fighter. She began scratching and clawing at him, but he refused to let her go this time, unlike other times when he was afraid that his arms would imprison her the way that immoral Daryl Wentworth had done with her. Now he simply held her and allowed her to dig her nails into his skin.

She'd continued her self-deprecating tirade, with fire in her eyes, a mix of self-loathing and anger. She was whored by men, danced herself into orgasms. Every man wanted to fuck her. That was what she was for Dorron - a piece of meat. And then the final straw.

"It's your fault! Why didn't you wait for me? None of this would have happened," the words tore from her.

He choked on his breath at the unfairness of her accusation. Then he slapped her. The glazed look dissolved, recognition dawning in her eyes.

_While I have managed to effect some calm in Kathryn, I have to tell you that she needs counselling. At one point she stated that she could relate her story to me without fear of being judged. But I fear myself that my brand of therapy might not be adequate in restoring Kathryn's emotional equilibrium._

_She is much calmer now and perhaps a little embarrassed that she lost it a bit. Do not be alarmed at my message. Kathryn is a real trooper and as soon as her 'aberration' as she called it passed, she vowed it wouldn't happen again. She misses her family, misses home and her only light right now is our son who is growing like a weed._

_On another front: We have recruited four young teenagers - two boys and two girls who were orphaned during a war between their homeworld and a neighbouring world. Bright as buttons they all are and very, very quick to learn. Already one boy is showing particular skills in flying. They have made a commitment to travel with us to Earth and to complete school. Our EMH, Kathryn and another traveller called Lon are teaching them so that they can slot into the last year of senior high school._

_We also rescued a young seventeen year old girl called Bela Rivot - Lon is her father - who went missing when she was only fifteen. Please, if possible, could counselling be arranged for her as well? She was in a critical state when we found her, worse even than the condition in which I found Kathryn. We feared for Bela's life but our EMH proved to be a real miracle worker. Full disclosure about all new prospective citizens of the Federation will be made in my official logs._

_We have two months which we'll probably reduce to about four weeks before we reach Earth's orbit. I must say it is getting a little crowded on the New Liberty._

_Until next time_

_Captain Chakotay._

************

Chakotay closed communication after he'd encrypted the message. Then he rose and turned towards his bedroom. Kathryn lay snug under the covers, her hand engagingly tucked against her cheek. She was peaceful now, the lines of strain gone from her face.

He sat down on the bed and caressed her cheek, his heart overflowing with love for her. He'd had to slap her face to shock her to reality.  She'd just stood there, her eyes full of anger and bewilderment. Then she sat down on the bed, her hands on her lap, and she'd shuddered violently for a long time. He'd waited patiently until she'd stopped shivering.

"Sorry. Lost it there for a while," she murmured without looking at him.

He knelt in front of her, covered her hands with his and lifted her chin with his free hand, urging her to turn her gaze on him.

"Don't ever be sorry, you hear me? None of what happened to you was your fault. I will remind you of that every single time you say sorry. Don't be, okay? Don't ever be sorry."

"But the reality cannot be escaped, can it?"

"No, unfortunately not, Kathryn. It happened and we cannot undo it. The Kathryn I've come to know on Voyager, the one who never gave up, who never quit anything, _that_ Kathryn will know how to deal with what happened to you."

Kathryn nodded, a smile growing slowly, her mouth curving at the corner. He noticed though, that she kept shivering, knew that she remembered details of her ordeal which would always haunt her.

He cupped her cheeks, kissed her forehead.

"I love you, Kathryn. That's not going to change. Ever. You understand that?"

Kathryn nodded again. "I accused you falsely. It was an aberration. It has always been you, even when there was so much separating us. I shall conquer this. I promise."

"Good. Now, you need a rest. I can see you're exhausted."

He made her stand so that he could pull away the covers. Then she lay down, giving a deep sigh as her eyes closed. Chakotay walked to his medicine cabinet and filled a hypospray. He returned to his room and showed her the sedative.

"Doctor's orders, okay?"

"I trust you. Hey…"

"What?"

"Your scratches. Did I do that?"

"Yes. I'll clear them in a moment."

"Thank you."

When Kathryn had drifted into slumber, Chakotay walked to his bathroom and began regenerating broken skin. Some of the scratches were quite deep. When he was done, he left his quarters quietly. There were a lot of things to do.

*********

Kathryn woke with a start four hours later when she heard movement in Chakotay's quarters. Expecting to see him, she was surprised that her visitors were Wadra and Linnea.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a croaky voice and still bleary eyed.

"We are moving your belongings and uniforms here - "

"What? On whose orders?" Kathryn asked, suddenly wide awake and already knowing what they were going to say.

"Captain Chakotay. All your things are here, Admiral Janeway - "

"Linnea, Wadra, you must call me Kathryn."

Linnea smiled her gentle smile and Wadra looked deferential. Kathryn gave a little sigh and shook her head.

"Okay. My things are here now. No one asked me. I take it Captain Chakotay told you why?"

"He also ordered us to sleep in your quarters and Andrew can room in with us. That is in case you were wondering where Captain Chakotay was going to sleep," said Linnea with a wide grin on her face.

"He ordered you," Kathryn stated.

"Captain Chakotay's requests always sounds like orders, Admiral," Wadra responded, ignoring Kathryn's directive to use her name.

Kathryn frowned heavily as she got up and balanced a little unsteadily on her feet. Linnea braced her until the fleeting dizziness passed. Then she sat down again, expelling a resigned sigh. Chakotay knew what he was doing. She always trusted him about that. The past week or two he'd slept with her because of her nightmares, and even then never overstepped the boundaries. She'd felt safe, cossetted like she'd never been cherished before, not even on Voyager.

She glanced at the dented pillows, a fierce burn in her bosom. He loved her and she loved him, but was she ready for what loving entailed in a marriage bed? Would Chakotay make new demands now? She was not going to object to the new arrangements because she knew Chakotay would respect her space.

"He loves you, Admiral," Linnea said. "That is clear for everyone to see."

"And you love him," Wadra added. "Do not worry, Admiral. Andrew will understand when he returns in the mornings to find his parents together."

Parents. That made Kathryn feel better almost instantly. As parents they would greet their son together and Andrew, bless him, would flourish in their love and care.

"Where is Andrew now?" she asked frowning, since Wadra was his caregiver.

"Andrew is with his father in the holodeck," Linnea replied.

The women gazed around the room, interested in what they saw against the bulkheads.

"What is that?" Wadra asked as she pointed to an ornately four cornered design.

Kathryn smiled as she followed Wadra eyes. "It's Chakotay's medicine wheel. It is part of the culture of his tribe. It is used especially when he has taken ill," Kathryn answered, remembering the time Chakotay had been taken over by an alien and Torres had hung the medicine wheel above the biobed.

"Because we have something similar on our homeworld. May we enter specifications in the replicator and put together our own medicine wheel?" Linnea asked, glancing quickly at Wadra.

"By all means, do. I think Chakotay can help you there. He downloaded all Dorron's logs from the Vodar, and that included a database of Krepek's culture, literature, technology. You are welcome to have access to it. It will be on my vid-com in my…old quarters."

"Thank you! Oh, I do hope all will be well, Admiral!" Linnea said. "We will leave you now. Some of your things you can store yourself."

She didn't have that much. She'd had nothing to begin with, after the shuttle accident. No special tea cup or coffee mug, no microscope, no locket with pictures of her parents. What she'd collected during the last almost three months since her rescue, had been replicated. They'd visited only one homeworld but didn't stay long enough to purchase trinkets. Now she had mostly clothes, her uniforms, a few books Chakotay had given her, others she'd replicated herself.

After the women left, Kathryn remained seated on the bed, feeling as if a huge boulder was lifting from her. She'd lost it when Chakotay appeared in the mess hall in his uniform. It made her think of home, of Starfleet, of the shame she couldn't stop feeling. She'd imagined everyone's eyes on her, as if they were trying to divine her innermost turmoil, or worse still, try to picture just how she writhed under the body of an alien, pry into her deepest soul.

Now Chakotay reassured her, his presence, the touch of his hand against her cheek, his voice so calm in her raging sea, his eyes instilling peace, all of it affecting and centering her. She knew she would find herself in situations where people would wonder about her and Chakotay's presence would steady her.

_It was not her fault._

She had to keep on believing that.

The ship, she decided, was running at optimum efficiency, as Seven of Nine would have said. She missed her crew but her heart raced at the thought that they could be home in four weeks. Chakotay still kept a wide berth around all those planets and space stations where he knew they'd kill him in the blink of an eye for ruining their business.

She was still making her peace with what Daryl Wentworth had done to her. But Chakotay had taught her not to look back in anger, but take every faltering step forward. She was doing it. With him and Andrew by her side, her mother, Phoebe, Adam Ponsonby all forming a stronghold around her, she could go forward.

The only thing troubling her right now, just one thing, had to do with Chakotay.

Kathryn wasn't certain that she was ready for that.

*******

"How are you feeling today, Bela?" the EMH asked the young girl who was sitting up on the biobed. Lon stood next to her, ever protective.

She looked scrubbed, young, a teenager still. She had gone through the most harrowing ordeal imaginable for someone so young. Forced prostitution was nothing new, but confronted with it since Captain Chakotay had undertaken the mission, still made the EMH's photonic skin crawl.

"I am healed in body, Doctor. My spirit will take longer, but I will get better."

"Good. I'm discharging you today. You have met our four cadets, is that right?"

Bela nodded. One of them had told her that in English her named meant "beautiful". 

"Well then, you will be in the company of young people for the rest of our journey to Admiral Janeway's homeworld - "

"Earth."

"Yes. Now I understand that Captain Chakotay has made new accommodation arrangements for you. There is a large cabin with three bunks for the girls. You will be with them - "

Bela glanced quickly at her father who nodded reassuringly. Bela relaxed visibly.

"One cabin is for the boys and your father will have a single cabin. He is also your teacher for the duration of our journey. Your father, Lon, and Admiral Janeway will teach various courses which will start tomorrow. You also have duties aboard this vessel - "

"I take it Captain Chakotay is on the bridge?" Bela shot the question at the EMH.

"Actually, no. He usually pilots the ship for the duration of Gamma shift. That man doesn't sleep. My guess is he's somewhere in consultation with Admiral Janeway. You have a commbadge which has been calibrated to Federation frequencies. Contact them anytime you feel the need to."

"Thank you, Doctor," Bela said. Then she looked her father directly in the eyes. "I was not always obedient, Father. But I prayed so often that you would come for me."

Lon looked like he would burst into tears. Then he hauled her into his arms and wept with her.

***************

Chakotay giggled as Andrew tickled him then broke into raucous laughter. They were on the holodeck and Chakotay had recreated a small swimming pool with stepped levels where Andrew could stand. The water was warm, around 32 degrees Celsius. Holographic toys that sank to the bottom which Andrew had to bend to pick up; others floated, and the little boy had to kick-swim to get to them.

Andrew was adventurous. While Chakotay had only his own boyhood and his sister's two boys as a framework, he was pleased that Andrew was simply a typical child ready to plunge fearlessly into any activity. The child's hair was wet and plastered to his scalp, hardly fazed when he accidently slipped and went under, jumping up quickly to recover.

"Papa?"

"Yes, son?"

"I can do arms and legs. Look!"

Then Andrew surprised him by thrashing forward, pitching off Chakotay's knees into the water, all arms and legs moving and remarkably staying afloat.

When it seemed Andrew was sinking, Chakotay moved and guided the boy gently to the side where Andrew grabbed the rail and pulled himself out of the pool. The excited boy ran to him, all smiles.

"Here, hit it, kid," Chakotay said as he held up his palm and Andrew gave it an almighty whack. Chakotay laughed, acting as if he got hurt badly, falling over backwards in mock pain and crying. Next moment Andrew's face creased and to Chakotay's astonishment, the child burst into tears, sobbing heartbrokenly. Quickly, Chakotay pulled him close and caressed the distraught boy’s head, murmuring endearments while he waited for the sobbing to subside.

"Drew, baby, what's the matter?"

"You hurt. You are sad. You cry!"

Chakotay frowned and for the next minute or so proceeded to prove to Andrew that he was not hurt, that he was only playing, letting the boy touch his arms and chest. But it seemed Andrew wasn't finished. At two and a half years old, the child was astute and noticed things. He'd also added a remarkable array of English words to his growing vocabulary. Yet, Chakotay realised, he was unable to verbalise strong emotional reactions to witnessing trauma. In a child so small, it would manifest only in the most unexpected situations, such as what just happened. Chakotay vowed to observe Andrew's reactions a little closer in future.

"See? I'm not hurt, okay?"

"Mommy hurt, Papa. Dorron hurt Mommy, then Mommy cry…"

Chakotay turned ice-cold. He pulled Andrew against him and closed his eyes, feeling the old prick of tears whenever Kathryn's sorrow lay close to the surface. He even felt nausea rising in him. What did Andrew see? What was he _allowed_ to see or experience? What did Dorron do to the poor child? How many assaults on Kathryn and other women did their son witness? A lump formed in Chakotay's throat and he swallowed hard to bank down his burgeoning fury. Was it any wonder that Andrew found it in the beginning difficult to connect to his mother, rather remaining with Wadra?

_Kathryn is not the only one needing counselling…_

Unable to prevent a sob, Chakotay held Andrew so that the child could look at him with his startling blue eyes.

"Mommy will never be hurt again, okay? No one will hurt her. I will keep her safe, you understand, my boy? I will always keep you and Mommy safe."

"Mommy fine now," Andrew said, touching his father's cheek again.

"Yes, son."

Long after Chakotay had ended the programme and settled Andrew with Wadra and the girls, he still mulled over what had happened in the holodeck. What manner of man could do that to a child?  A baby at that? How well had Wadra herself protected Andrew? There must have been occasions when Dorron violated his own aunt and the child had witnessed that. Other times, when Kathryn was on the ship and Dorron raped her to force her compliance, must have been seen by Andrew. Kathryn had told him how Dorron had done the same with her and Linnea on the Vodar when he brought in aliens to violate the women, let the child watch so that Kathryn's compliance was complete. He'd thought stupidly that Andrew hadn't been affected that way when Kathryn had recounted her story.

Chakotay had returned to the holodeck with its stark grey and yellow grids and simply sat down on the floor, allowing his rage to overpower him. Was it ever going to end? Wentworth and Dorron's actions would resonate for years in the hearts and minds of those women they enslaved.

A child had suffered. What Andrew saw… God help him, Chakotay thought in anguished moments, he'd kill Wentworth and Dorron all over again if that were possible.

Before he went on Gamma shift duty, he had to do a few things. Lon proved to be a good crewman, a solid fighter and teacher who could cover for him.

It was critical that he speak with Kathryn again.

*************

It was late that evening that Chakotay had a chance to speak with Kathryn. He'd decided to move her things to his quarters. If anything, they needed more space now that Bela had been discharged by the EMH.

After almost two weeks, the young girl had recovered physically. Her colour had returned and she looked healthy, like the first year cadets at the Academy who oozed confidence. He was glad for Bela and for her father. It was a good decision to let them stay aboard the New Liberty on their way to Earth to make a new life for themselves.

And he'd noticed how Lon couldn't keep his eyes off Linnea. Linnea, it seemed, didn't mind the attention. She was a good woman, the best. If only they stopped being so deferential towards him and Kathryn!

Chakotay shook himself to dispel his runaway thoughts. Kathryn had worked most of the rest of the day after he'd given her a sedative. The warp core needed constant maintenance and her expertise was vital. She'd trained Neam and Joda to assist her while the girls piloted the vessel under the guidance of Lon.

He gave a deep sigh. Like this morning when he'd exploded in an argument with Kathryn, he had no idea how she would react when he confronted her now with the latest developments.

******

Chopin's etude filled the cabin, the music swirling like wind lifting delicately over strings, a sound recreated by effortlessly running the fingers over the keys in a series of rapid arpeggios. It filled her, Chopin, the sometimes pained composer, and Kathryn wondered not for the first time how the Aeolian Harp could elicit such deep, sorrowful emotions.

They emerged from the depths of Chopin's wordless songs. She felt a keen sadness, yet at the same time buoyed by her memories of playing it whenever Chakotay had visited her quarters for their weekly dinners on Voyager. Sometimes she'd sat with him in his cabin and simply enjoyed listening while both were lost in their thoughts in total companionable silence

How then could they both have lost their way to one another when they had so much going for them? Their attraction had been immediate, the instant understanding tapering off over the years to a gentle acknowledgement of the power they had over one another.

All of that lost when they returned home.

She'd missed the music, missed being moved by melodious sounds even during her years of captivity. For a moment only, Kathryn felt the urge to cry, but berated herself, so she sat back in the large easy chair in Chakotay's lounge and let the music permeate her being. She closed her eyes and hummed the tune that filled the cabin. So appropriately named, she always thought. It reminded her of the Sikarian atmospheric sensor when they visited Gathorel Labin's homeworld. Wind kissing the strings to emit melodies that seemed to spring from something deep and mysterious.

She felt a waft of air next to her.

"I know you're there, Chakotay," she said, her eyes still closed, attuned as she was to his movements..

She felt him take her hand and briefly caress it before he urged her to her feet. Then he guided her to the larger sofa. Kathryn frowned deeply as she took in his serious features when she sat down.

"Computer, end music."

Instantly the quiet in the lounge took on another tone, more sombre, the former buoyancy she felt suddenly gone. Chakotay looked…grim and sad, she thought.

"Chakotay? Is anything wrong?" she asked, for she thought something had to be wrong to put such a solemn, forbidding look on his face.

As he sat down next to her, the lights at almost full illumination - when had he ordered that? - she looked fully into his eyes.

"Bela, is she alright?" Kathryn asked.

"Bela is fine."

"Then - ?"

Silence ensued in which Kathryn waited for Chakotay to speak, her anxiety increasing ten-fold.

"Kathryn," he started eventually, "I know you told me your whole story."

"So I did. I left nothing out - "

"Maybe it didn't occur to you at the time. Andrew was always on the Vodar, right?" When Kathryn nodded, Chakotay continued. It was time to be direct. No beating about the bush. "Did Andrew ever witness Dorron violate you or the  other women?"

Kathryn gasped, horrified, her eyes widening at the colossal import of Chakotay's question. A blinding realisation of a truth never imagined striking her with full force. She had been drugged so frequently by Dorron that she never noticed what was going on around her other than Dorron or another alien raping her, her screams or orgasmic keening heard everywhere, she supposed. Andrew was in Wadra's care, but when Wadra had been violated by Dorron, where was Andrew? Where was her son? Did he sit there and watch what was happening? Did he witness her screams, her trauma? Did Dorron let the child watch? Like he'd watched his own mother mating with aliens?

Her eyes rolling, Kathryn felt the world turning about her, a vortex spinning out of control. Her stomach heaved maddeningly. No, she didn't have to remember. She could easily imagine it now. Dorron was malevolent enough to have ensured her little boy watched. He was pure evil. The raging cyclone spun round and round. Andrew saw, she realised that now. Was she breathing? Did her breath desert her so that her insides ached so hard? She was so dizzy that she began tumbling into the eye of the storm that swallowed her with craven possession and carried her away…

*****

END CHAPTER 23

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

* * *

 

She felt more than saw the softness of low illumination in Chakotay's bedroom. She could even picture his medicine wheel against a bulkhead, his bat-leth against another, although that Klingon weapon was actually resting on a bracket in his lounge.

It was quiet, save for her breathing that was slow, deep and restful. Did Chakotay administer a sedative? she wondered. Her body relaxed, her head on a pillow that was so soft she wanted to keep her eyes closed and simply enjoy its bliss.

And his breathing. There was no ticking clock that denoted the passing of time, yet his breathing indicated time as not a specific element of passing, but his sheer presence telling her it was evening. How long had she slept? Did she sleep?

She tried to remember why she was lying down on the bed, her memory a momentary blank, as if she'd slept so deeply that upon waking up, she couldn't remember what day it was, that she'd be filled with disquiet that she couldn't remember anything. As if she'd ask herself, "Why am I lying here"?

And slowly, things began to take assert themselves  - Chakotay sitting next to her, Chakotay asking about Andrew, Chakotay holding her.

Andrew. There was a sudden burn behind her closed eyelids. A soft intake of breath as she remembered. Images. Of her in compromising situations. Of Andrew sitting and watching.

So Kathryn opened her eyes very slowly, tentatively testing whether it was safe, that the truth and reality were there, but it was still safe. She knew it wouldn't be gone if she woke up completely. Yet she wanted it to be gone, so that she could pretend what she’d heard and sensed never happened.

But it had.

She stared at the ceiling, fixing her gaze on a point that offered no significance to her state of mind. She wanted to go back into that dark where she didn't have to think. Almost she sank into the comfortable mists of oblivion again, but reality - Andrew, Chakotay - forced her to accept his voice that brooked no objection.

"Look at me, Kathryn."

Sighing, she complied, surprised at how close his face was to hers. She saw the concern, the lurking sadness in his eyes. It affected her, filled her with equal anxiety. She tried to sit up and soothe his brow, plant a kiss against his tattoo, but Chakotay pressed her back against the pillow. She grabbed his hand, her fingers digging into his palm, waiting for him to speak.

"You were gone there for a while," he said, hardly able to smile. "I administered a sedative. You required it." He spoke stiltedly, so unlike the hard, aggressive warrior that oozed rugged confidence

She nodded, licking her lips for they felt dry. How long had she been out?

"Andrew witnessed the callous and wanton violations against us, Chakotay," she told him. "Perhaps not every time, but I think when it happened, Dorron didn't care about my little baby seeing things." She kept her tone even, detached as she spoke. "When you asked me about Andrew, it never occurred to me that he'd witnessed our physical abuse, that Dorron didn't protect him. Me, Linnea, Wadra, other women. It threw me, you know, the sins Dorron committed against a little child." Kathryn paused, then spoke again. "Why did you ask me about him? It never came up before. Why now?"

"It was his swimming lesson in the holodeck. When he succeeded in swimming to the rail, I did a high-five with him. He banged my hand quite hard, so I pretended to be hurt by falling backwards and screaming. Andrew burst into tears thinking he injured me."

She wanted to smile at the image it evoked but couldn't. Her eyes welled with tears. Chakotay's compassion was too much for her. She didn't want him feeling sorry. But she understood Andrew's reaction. How many times had Dorron violated her on the Vodar when she became intractable?

"Then Andrew told you that Dorron hurt me," Kathryn said as she responded intuitively. She sensed just what their son had told Chakotay.

"That's about it," Chakotay said, nodding in agreement.

Kathryn clutched his hand to her bosom, the words spilling from her.

"He needs counselling, Chakotay, just like all of us. We cannot ignore it. Things we imagine unimportant can trigger what's embedded in him." She gave a deep sob. "If-if we don't, he could become like Dorron. We cannot let that happen! He's only two. He needs help. We must let my mother know."

Tears were streaming down her face, soaking into the pillow.

"Don't worry. Andrew will receive all the help he can get and a loving family surrounding him will reduce the impact that witnessing your pain caused him."

Kathryn sighed as she wiped at the tears with her palm.

"We are a ship of broken dolls," she said sadly.

"And we will all heal in time, my love."

Kathryn gave another sob. "I keep crying, Chakotay. I promised myself I wouldn't shed another tear again. Did I faint?" she asked.

Chakotay smiled gently, releasing his hand from her grip and tucking her hair behind her ear.

"It's okay to cry, Kathryn. It doesn't make you weak. You have been through so much and yes, you passed out from the shock of realising that Andrew had witnessed what no child should ever witness."

When Kathryn finally sat up, her face was so close that she wondered for a moment why Andrew hadn’t inherited his father's dark eyes. Chakotay's mouth opened as if he were on the point of saying something. His eyes grew watery and she marvelled about that too, frowning as her fingers descended on his lips like butterflies come to rest on a flower recently encouraged to open.

"Chakotay," his name issued from her, soft, hoarse. A frisson of pleasure travelled from the touch of her fingertips through her body, a sensual warmth filling her. She wanted to touch him, wanted to feel again. Kathryn frowned as an unaccustomed heat settled around her core.

"Chakotay…?"

*****

He couldn't stop staring at her. In an instant, her grief and outrage had changed to awareness of something new, a deep, mystical element that had visited them briefly at intervals since she'd come aboard his ship. So briefly that he'd only imagined that she'd welcome him with the familiarity and intimacy of a night lost in the fog of their collective passion.

Then there were those moments since her rescue when desire threatened to overcome them both, sensing how she wanted more. Like Kathryn had done a thousand days ago, he had chosen to exercise control and walk away from what she offered. For never had he wanted to be like _them_ , the bastards who had taken her body and bent its softness, its purity, its innate decorum to their will and turned her into a doll performing for their pleasure.

No, in those moments he'd cared too deeply, had denied his own needs so as not to disregard hers. Always fearful that she would shrink from him, he'd held back, allowed her time to heal, to reject everything that had been done to her.

There were nights he'd lain spooned behind her soft, pliant body, biting his lips 'til they bled, exerting all his self-control not to give in and make love to her.  Did she ever know about those nights? Did she know how that tested him so fiercely that he'd wanted to die?

Now Kathryn's eyes changed; they glowed a deep mysterious warmth, filled with a profound longing for something he had been afraid to entertain. Then she touched him. Her fingertips rested against his lips. They'd opened in awed anticipation and the touch sent shock waves through him. Every nerve ending recoiled as if in pain, yet pain transformed to pleasure. He closed his eyes to absorb the sensation of wanting to drown in sensual awakening. It was new, it was old and familiar, it was here and it was real.

He heard her whisper his name.

He covered her hand with his, turned her palm and pressed his lips there. Like that he remained for an eternity, soaking in the wonder of touch.

"You weep, Chakotay," came her voice, soft, awed as he felt her hand touch his head, her thumb caressing his tattoo.

He had not known that the wetness on her hand were his tears that had fallen from him. He dared to gaze into her eyes again. His heart thundered, and he wondered whether Kathryn could hear the wild but rhythmic beating.

Chakotay cupped her cheeks with trembling hands as he leaned and brushed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. He heard her soft gasp as he felt her hands pulling him closer.

"Oh, Kathryn…" he whispered brokenly as they fell back against the pillows.

He removed her clothing with the greatest care, always mindful that she might flinch. She wrapped her fingers round his hands as they peeled away her top garment. Her lips parted, her breathing shallow, she continued the odyssey with him until she lay naked.

He gazed at her alabaster skin, transfixed as he surveyed its smoothness, silk to his touch. He let his fingers traverse gently over planes that trembled to his touch, as if the minutest hairs on her skin stood erect and the tiniest blush of a breeze lifted them. Her breasts were firm, smooth, irresistible to tease with his tongue, so alluring that a thousand lights exploded in his brain from the desire which touching evoked. He wanted to bury his face in her bosom and remain there, inhale her smell, inhale her sex, simply just inhale her.

He couldn't help this journey; he had to touch every single point where once she hurt, to heal her body. His eyes followed fingers that explored every hill, every valley, traversed over jutting bones, completely absorbed in the action.

Kathryn lay still as she allowed him this indulgence until, unable to prevent herself from remaining impervious to the designs he traced on her skin, she too began the slow unveiling of his body. First, tentatively, the jacket of the Federation which only this morning had caused her so much anguish, then more firmly, assertively, the rest, stroking the rank pips one by one before they hit the floor. They didn't break the silence so much as punctuated it with the sounds of their breathing which deepened as they began to break through their reserves.

She had been afraid, so afraid that she would remain the Coppélia doll that had no choice but to dance to manipulations engineered falsely to give false readings. This was Chakotay, the man she loved, the man who lay above her, naked, primed to pierce what she had most desired. She marvelled at his body, bronzed, muscular, his skin taut, hairs that appeared to tremble as her hands moved over them like an Aeolean Harp creating sounds of unbearable music.

How had she imagined it would be? Her core throbbed impatiently, and she frowned once again in wonderment that she could feel like that, that her body could become naturally aroused. Chakotay alone brought about this thrilling reaction. She gave a little sob as her legs parted slowly to allow him better access.

"Don't cry, beloved," he whispered close to her ear.

He kissed her, every part of her face, his hands in her hair, lifting himself so as not to press his full weight down on her. A sob fell into his mouth as she moved her hips, feeling his hand between them stroke her. She moaned as his fingers caressed until she could endure it no more. Unable to stop herself, she lifted her hips, urging him to continue and deliver her from the most exquisitely pleasured pain.

And, she realised with wonder, it was not over.

So they moved, and Kathryn could rejoice that her body, long denied its natural responses, could sway to Chakotay's touches as he filled her completely. She gave an agonised, joyous, surprised cry when he began his thrusting. They rocked in a dance of joy, heaving, groaning, quickening the pace as sensual delight and excruciating ecstasy overpowered them both.

He cried her name and she cried his and their tears mingled as they danced and they rejoiced in their gentle cries and rejoiced even more when those cries increased in intensity and they found their bodies lifted from the bed as they reached their peaks together. There, upon those peaks they remained for long moments while new sounds filled the room until at last they descended those heights, albeit reluctantly, still in each other's arms. 

Chakotay did not collapse upon her. He brought her down gently with him and lay her down just as gently as if beneath her was the softest cloud.

"Kathryn…"  he whispered, disinclined to disconnect their bodies.

Her legs curled about his waist, not wanting him to withdraw.

"I am free, Chakotay, my love," she whispered back.

He raised his head to gaze into her adoring eyes. She looked cherised beyond comparison, like that night when she'd asked him to make love to her. He cupped the sides of her head and leaned in to kiss her. Inside him rose something, a terrifying storm that, try as he might, he couldn't control. It was impossible, for he began sobbing, wracking shudders that tore through his body. Kathryn held him to her and wept with him.

They fell asleep eventually, made love again when they woke in the middle of the night. In the early hours of the morning, they tumbled into deep sleep.

******

Kathryn woke first. Her eyes opened slowly to the realisation that she was lying in Chakotay's arms. At least, if she remembered correctly, that was how they fell asleep. Now she lay on her back, her leg over his legs. He was still fast asleep.

Not wanting to wake him, she eased herself on her side and gazed at his sleeping form. Tears sprang in her eyes as she took in the restful way he was breathing, the lines of strain gone from his face, his lips slightly parted, little puffs of breath expelling from them.

She touched his tattoo, then leaned to plant a kiss where her hand had been against his brow. He didn't wake, and she was glad for she wanted to admire him. He slept very little, especially when he was flying his ship solo. Now she was happy to see the tiredness seeping from him.

Sighing, she lay back again and reflected on events of the night. Her hand drifted down to her pubis, touching it, feeling it still tender, slipping in a finger and surprised at the moistness of it. Then she cupped her breasts, caressing them, feeling how they too, were still tender from Chakotay's ministrations. So different from… With a mental jerk, she pulled herself away from those destructive images, yet she had to acknowledge that they formed part of the context of her life, always there, never to be repeated.

So she returned to the newness of her body, still shivering from whorls of pleasure as she touched her skin, remembering Chakotay's fingers, his lips, his tears everywhere on her. She remembered how he filled her, how it felt as if no man had ever touched her in three years. Her body had rocked into a rhythm she had experienced only once before, with Chakotay.

_My body belongs to me now…_

Next to her, Chakotay stirred lazily to wakefulness. The bed was warm, her body close to his, their feet touching. He was certain it wasn't a dream.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she murmured close to his face.

Kathryn's voice, so dear, familiar, so loving, so devoid of tension.

He pulled her into his arms, slid her atop his body. He gazed into her eyes for so long, she was certain their entire history was playing out in his mind. For she could see how his eyes revealed the shifting emotions, from friends to colleagues, from sadness to joy, hope and despair, all in his expressions until the smile appeared, the hint of an indentation in his cheek. Years of emotions flitting across his features.

"You are happy," she said.

"My life has meaning, now that you are a part of it. I have been empty so long."

"We are together now, a family."

"Will you marry me, Kathryn?"

Before she could respond the door to his quarters chimed. Both of them jumped out of bed, naked as they were, and scrambled to find boxers and robes. When the door chimed a second time, they could hear Andrew screaming for them to wake up.

"Our son wants us," Kathryn said, gracing Chakotay with her old humour as she padded to the lounge and ordered the doors to open.

"You haven't answered my question, Kathryn!" Chakotay called from the bedroom.

When Kathryn reappeared, holding Andrew's hand, they stood in front of him. Kathryn's eyes held a beauteous gleam while Andrew was just…Andrew!

"Papa!"

"Our answer is yes!"

***********************

**Dance of the firebird**

Late afternoon, Chakotay made his way to the holodeck. Kathryn had told him to be there at 1500. They'd played with Andrew this morning, then had breakfast together. Andrew ate a mix of Krepekean mush and Earth cereal, a strange combination, but Kathryn had assured Chakotay kids have all kinds of peculiarities.

"We got used to Krepekean food, Chakotay," she'd said soberly.

Throughout his three year journey, he'd had the Federation's state of the art replicators to replicate food of his liking. He'd very rarely eaten cuisine of other species on Space stations or those homeworlds he'd occasionally visited. With Kathryn and Andrew, things had been so different. He never really thought about it and he was certain people back home also never gave it a thought. If Kathryn lived on a homeworld deep in the Gamma Quadrant, with no other references for Earth cuisine, of course she'd have gotten used to eating strange foods. He gave a grin. Much like Neelix's leeola root and Alfarian hair pasta. They'd had to eat that though he swore he never got used to it.

But that life was over now. They were a family and as soon as they were home, Admiral Paris would join them in marriage.

Last night had been good for them. They'd crossed barriers even Kathryn had not imagined. She'd been so adversely affected by what had happened to her that she'd thought she would never be able to _feel_ again. The realisation that she could feel and thrust all destructive things from her was exhilarating, breath-taking. She was discovering her body anew and that discovery overwhelmed them both.

Later, after Wadra had come to collect Andrew, she'd been open with him.

"There were men, Chakotay, too big to break into my body, but they did. Drugs were pumped into me to relax my vaginal passage. So many things done to me were wrong."

"And?"

"I read my medical files from the moment you transported us to the New Liberty and I spent time in sick bay. I know what the EMH did."

"I had nothing to do with it, Kathryn.

"I know. I appreciate it. It was necessary."

"I'm glad you think so."

Kathryn had paused, as if pondering over something.

"Will you come this afternoon to the holodeck?" she'd asked after a very heady kiss. "Just something I wish to share with you."

Now as he approached the holodeck, he experienced a mild attack of palpitations. Why was he suddenly so apprehensive? He was happy and so was Kathryn, what could be wrong now?

She was the dancer he’d discovered on a lonely space station. He recalled how she looked then. She'd been painted red and black all over her nude body, the black in stunning geometric lines down her body, from the top of her forehead to her feet. And then, without recognising him, she danced. In those first minutes, he'd been stunned that she had appeared oblivious of her nakedness. He recalled how appalled he'd been that she'd been doing that for clients, that on payment of more money, they could feast on her body. How Kathryn, when regaining her memory, had been filled with shame and humiliation.

That was Majja of the Gamma Quadrant.

The night he'd rescued her, he'd noticed the entreaty in her eyes when she danced, that she be delivered from her bondage.

Even then, Majja-Kathryn trusted him.

She had been destroyed then. But Kathryn, being the fighter that she was, had helped in her own recovery.

Sighing, Chakotay stepped inside as the holodoeck doors opened then slid closed behind him.

Then he gaped at the scene in front of him.

He found himself in a forest clearing, with only a single tree in the middle. Its branches were laden with lush leaves and the most glorious white blossoms that reminded him of the peach blossoms on Dorvan, behind his parents' abode. It stood there like a sentry in the middle until the tree changed and the blossoms morphed into fruits. But strangely, the fruits were all different colours and really, as he looked closer, of indeterminate varieties, not merely peach.

That was the first shock. The second was the music. It breathed the sounds of violins, string instruments, counterpointed with flutes, oboes, a low trumpet. He'd heard this music before, more than once. He'd always told Kathryn it reminded him of fire breathing volcanoes. Once he'd asked her, "Who'd be so incensed to destroy the world?"

And Kathryn had replied, sounding a little aggrieved, that he hadn't quite understood the music or its import.

"Stravinsky, and he composed the Firebird Suite. See, it's a ballet of life, of death and renewal. Once the trees die, soon, with the elements of water and wind, and the darkness which is but brief, like our sorrow, they experience renewal, a rebirth, shrugging off the old, the past."

The third shock was the appearance of the firebird. Kathryn! Her face was painted in peach-orange streaks. She wore what he could only describe as a full body suit in nude tones, secured at the bodice with thin straps that criss-crossed at the back.

She wore a diaphanous skirt over the body suit, its panels of uneven lengths and various colours depicting fire. Kathryn looked straight at him but began moving in rhythm, her arms mimicking the wings of a bird, her feet always pointed elegantly, her movements exquisite, far, far removed from her days as The Dancer.

This, this was Kathryn turned Majja turned Kathryn. She pirouetted, twirled, spread her wings and touched the fruits on the tree.

Then suddenly, it seemed as if fire sprang from the firebird's fingertips, creating long, curling swatches of blazing colours that, as they touched the branches of the tree, the ripe fruits of so many different colours, they began to scorch them. Tongues of flames shot heavenward, and as they burned the tree,  all its bounty turned to blackened ash.

Startled that the firebird could willingly scorch the very creation of the Most High, Chakotay's hand snaked out to caution the bird that it was destroying beauty. Yet, something held him back as he, distressed, forced himself to watch until the firebird was spent.

Kathryn danced, her movements becoming more and more agitated, impassioned. Her face and neck, beaded with perspiration, remained rapt in the absorption of her task. Was the firebird dying?

That dreadful thought distressed him even more, though with the best will in the world, he could not move from where he stood rooted to the spot. Kathryn's dance, her frantic furling and unfurling of her wings was slowing; after the tree died, after the ground in the clearing turned to dark ash, the surrounding foliage turning from grey to black, a silence such as the aftermath of death ensued. The music changed, from the energetic polka movements to slow harmonious melody, mostly strings as it too was winding down to let death win.

The firebird - Kathryn - stood on her toes, her shoulders slumped, hands folded in front, her head bent. What, he wondered, was she planning now as she settled back on her heels?

And then he didn't wonder anymore. For had he not sensed the trust he could have in the firebird? When she lifted her head, raised her arms high above her, she began the slow, exquisite dance that kept him spellbound. Little white flowers appeared everywhere her hands touched a branch, a tree and the ground turned green as shoots sprang up and created a new carpet of blossoms and greenery. The tree came to life and once again filled with white flowers that he could only stare at, enraptured at its indescribable beauty.

He knew now why Kathryn had invited him here, to share in her journey. The music eased to a stop. Kathryn had come to rest almost right in front of him, exhausted, her breathing laboured. He waited for her to move, for she would do so in her own time.

How could he not love her? How could he not acknowledge her as the bravest woman he would ever meet in his lifetime? Kathryn had, through this pained ballet, shown him her life, and she wanted him in it. She showed him life, death, renewal, all in one dance.

It was Kathryn, so incredibly her, so fearless in owning her own pain and electing to let it die only for her to resurge and reclaim the life she had lost.

She looked up at him, the love of the world in her eyes.

Not only that.

Victory.

She moved into his embrace and rested her head against his chest. He pressed his lips into her hair, held her so close that she had to know he would never let her go, never leave her, always protect her. He blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her nearness. She didn’t demur at this close contact, perhaps closer than the intimacy of lovemaking. For in this way, his body became her fortress, his arms and broad shoulders the bastions that would always, always be ready to sustain her when she fell.

He had been sent to find her.

And on a space station, far, far away, Chakotay found his dancer.

***************

THE END

Epilogue to follow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: The imagery described here for the "Dance of the Firebird" as depicted in Walt Disney's "Fantasia". Music: Igor Stravinsky.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 24 is really the end of the story. Chapter 25 is an epilogue! Please do enjoy.


	25. Chapter 25

* * *

 

 

**THE EPILOGUE**

* * *

 

**Homecoming**

What a joy it was to return home, for Kathryn and Chakotay to see Earth and experience nostalgia for a second time! They had been gone three years in which political events unfolded, an admiral or two jailed,  cultural and literary milestones reached, people got married, others divorced, and still others passed away.

They had been brought up to speed with all new developments in the Federation, some of which had not surprised Kathryn when she learned that transwarp had been successfully tested by none other than Tom Paris, Harry Kim, B'Elanna and Seven of Nine. It was fitted on the Delta Flyer for experimental testing before the brand new Prometheus II could be fitted and former crew of Voyager could take her into the Delta Quadrant captained by Chakotay.

When the New Liberty arrived near the Bajoran wormhole, they were surprised to see Voyager, captained by Magnus Rollins, waiting for them. On that ship were members of her family, Chakotay's sister and his niece and nephew, Admiral Paris and Voyager's senior officers.

As Kathryn and Chakotay materialised on the bridge of Voyager, Admirals Paris, Ponsonby, Captain Rollins, Tom Paris, B'Elanna, Harry Kim and Seven of Nine stood at attention and saluted them. Kathryn Janeway was unable to prevent tears forming in her eyes as she glanced at them, acknowledging each one with a nod. Chakotay stood next to her, his hand never far from her so that Kathryn was assured he was only a touch away.

Suddenly it felt good being back. Chakotay got the distinct feeling that B'Elanna Paris wanted to break his nose for vanishing like that three years ago and never letting on what he was doing.

Kathryn Janeway had only experienced a mild feeling of trepidation as she'd pondered on their reaction to her disappearance and captivity. With Chakotay by her side, her fear waned for his presence settled her equilibrium and she remembered how he'd said, "Courage, my beloved. Just remember that they love you."

They were informed by Captain Rollins that his mission was to wait for the return of the New Liberty and take aboard the USS Voyager the entire crew of Chakotay's vessel. Andrew had simply squawked like an excited bird at the sight of the "big ship" as he referred to Voyager. Both parents smiled indulgently with an expression that seemed to say, "Wait until you see our Constitution Class starships." Andrew had looked at his parents mid-squawk, thinking, "I can't wait to fly that ship!"

All replicators, vid-coms, the warp core, other critical devices, weapons, torpedoes were transferred to Voyager. When Kathryn asked why, he'd told her that the New Liberty had served its purpose and would be left a derelict in space.

The Krepekeans and Rodarans were transported to Voyager where Mike Ayala, Mariah Henley and Sam Wildman settled them in their quarters. The EMH made a welcome return to Voyager's sick bay while Kathryn, Chakotay and Andrew went to the observation lounge where their families waited for them. 

It was a tearful reunion, especially when Gretchen Janeway couldn't seem to let Kathryn go and Andrew had started crying. He'd had been prepared and shown pictures of his grandparents, aunt and cousins, but the real meeting unsettled the child. Chakotay had meanwhile hugged his sister and niece, then calmed their son.

There had been so many questions and by the time Voyager passed through the wormhole and reached Deep Space Nine, there still was not enough time to answer them all. Still, on their way to Earth, Kathryn especially, had been bolstered by the love of her mother and stepfather, her fear of being condemned or judged quickly vanishing. It had been good, she'd decided, that they silently acknowledged her traumas in the Gamma Quadrant, but assured her that their only concern was to have her back.

She reconnected with all of them and especially held a great admiration for her former senior officers who had done stellar work while she was gone. No one spoke about Daryl Wentworth though everyone knew what kind of man he was and declared him "not fit as a human being".

Slowly they became a real family as Admiral Janeway returned to her former job. Chakotay accepted a professorship at the Academy, teaching for a semester and the rest of the year divided his time between visiting archaeological digs and teaching senior cadets advanced tactical training. After the first year, with yet another conflict looming, he was commissioned to command Starfleet Command's Prometheus II, a Prometheus class starship. Most of the crew and officers of Voyager requested commissions to Chakotay's new vessel.

**********

**The Counsellors**

 

Along the walls of the large, airy room were colourful pictures of animals. The chairs were miniatures of command chairs on starships and children of five and under fit snugly in them. They could play and pretend to be commanders and first officers and no restrictions on the number of times they could hit their commbadges.

Andrew Janeway was a happy little boy. Most of the time he sat in the tiny command chair, calling out , "Helm, report!" while looking at his counsellor.  He loved the lady who smiled all the time and who played with him. His Papa told him her name was Counsellor Zhu. He could call her Miss Zhu. So Andrew did. He called her Missou.

Missou held a Flotter soft toy in her hand, waving it in front of Andrew.

"Now, Andrew, is Flotter going to cry if I punch his tummy?" Missou asked. She knew that Andrew played with his father and loved to punch Chakotay in the stomach.

Missou gave Flotter a playful punch in his tummy. Then Flotter fell over backwards and pretended to cry. Andrew sat wide-eyed watching his favourite toy cry. And Flotter cried!

"I'm not going to cry," Andrew said, pursing his lips and squeezing his eyes tight. "No, no, no, Missou."

"Why won't you cry, Andrew?" Missou asked again. He liked it when she smiled. She was very pretty, but not as pretty as his mommy.

"I'm big now."

"But you can cry if you want to."

"Flotter is pretending!"

"I know!"

For a few minutes Missou and Andrew played with Flotter, Tank the Targ and a Bee named…Maja."

"Mama was Majja."

"Is that so Andrew?"

"Uh-huh."

"But what is her name?" Missou asked as she waved the bee toy playfully near him.

"Kathryn. Mama is Kathryn. Papa is Chakotay. He-he says Mama was always Kathryn."

"That is very good, Andrew."

"They hurt Mama. She cried."

"Is she hurt now?"

"Huh-uh. Papa pro-pro-protect Mama. Keep her safe."

"That is very good Andrew," Missou said.

After the session they played some more. Andrew revealed much through play which Miss Zhu recorded and later discussed with his parents. He was a naturally balanced child who thrived in their care and extended family. He spent a year with Missou and then only returned for quarterly assessments during which Missou declared that although he progressed significantly, they allow him to see her annually. Kathryn and Chakotay were realistic, however, that there would be times their son might show measures of distress in certain situations, such as Chakotay blustering away in anger.

************

Counsellor Deanna Troi and Counsellor Malkovich were assigned to work with Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay.

Admiral Janeway displayed a natural antipathy to divulging things of a deeply personal nature to anyone. The only persons who could pierce that aversion was her mother and Chakotay, especially Chakotay. To him she could weep uncontrollably, tell him of the unspeakable atrocities committed against her person and her emotional stability following those events.

He knew her intimately. Deanna Troi was to her a stranger. The first sessions were aborted when Kathryn would suddenly and without warning get up and leave. Gradually Kathryn came to accept that Deanna Troi was not going to relent, but moreover, that the counsellor had a deep, abiding empathy for what she had suffered at the hands of criminals. Kathryn was made to recognise that her counsellor held her revelations in total confidence, that indeed, Troi exuded a warmth, a kind understanding which prompted Kathryn to begin to trust her.

At first, like a feral cat, Kathryn was wary of coming closer, hissing menacingly when threatened. In Deanna's outstretched hand was a tempting treat urging Kathryn to come closer. It was her gentle smile that concealed a surprising firmness.  Always wary, yet beginning to sense a trust, Kathryn began to approach, reaching for Deanna's smile, her trust. It was a little game Deanna Troi employed with officers who were difficult to reach. But she was experienced, a Betazed who sensed Kathryn's warring emotions and lack of trust in her.

"Why do I need to do this?" Kathryn asked.

"So that you need to trust people again, Admiral. To step outside the cocoon you have created and believe that not every person you see has deep and dark intentions."

Gradually things began to change as more and more Kathryn was able to reveal her traumas, but particularly how they affected her. She realised how each time as she divulged her terror, the boulder that had rested on her shoulder became lighter and the burden of her regrets began to ease. It was this that caused a major block in Kathryn.  While she could acknowledge that the things done to her were horrendous and would always remain with her, it was the regrets, the "ifs" with which she found it difficult to live. _If_ she had revealed her feelings to Chakotay, _if_ she told him before he began dating Seven that she loved him, _if_ she refused to take Daryl's pheromones, if she hadn't married Daryl. _If, if, if_.

Deanna Troi guided her into understanding how pointless it was to dwell on the 'ifs' in one's life, how sinking into morbid pondering engendered wasted emotions. She had to cultivate and enjoy the new ones such as unbridled joy, laughter, happiness, love.

She could take those regrets and turn them into positives. Chakotay searched for her. Chakotay found her. Chakotay never stopped loving her. They had a son who meant the world to them both. Those were the big new emotions she cultivated.

That, Kathryn learned in a very painful way, more than made up for the bad things that had happened to her. She need never be afraid of backlash, that people talked or held things against her, or judged her. People were intelligent beings who didn't need to be told in any sordid detail of what happened to her.

Of the tests Kathryn had been invited to undertake was to conduct a class at the Academy in quantum physics to test reaction from colleagues and cadets. She entered a lecture room, her stomach in knots as she gazed at the senior cadets. She'd conducted her lecture, her initial apprehension subsiding as she immersed herself in the mysteries of her subject. She could even at the end of the lecture, as the cadets filed out, stop one of them.

"You look familiar, Cadet…" She'd looked down on the PADD to check the cadets' seating plan but before she could speak again, the young man graced her with a very broad smile.

"Cadet James Rollins, Admiral. Magnus Rollins is my father."

After that it became easier as she became less aware that everyone looked at her as if they knew something about her. With time, as she was assured by Deanna, those feelings would diminish, though it was natural to feel that they wouldn't altogether disappear.

Kathryn's relationship with Chakotay improved as her feelings about the way he'd killed slave traders still lingered. It was something she just couldn't forget. Sometimes she would think about what he did and then quietly dismiss it. Of course it left her husband perplexed, and in quiet tones during dinner would speak to him about it. Those were moments they both treasured, their love deepening.

Many months later Kathryn invited Deanna and Will Riker to Indiana to mark the end of their counselling sessions. The couples had become firm friends and sealed they way in they she and Chakotay began to socialise more, her fear at last abating.

Life, Kathryn Janeway decided at last, was good.

******

Chakotay head-butted Counsellor Mariusz Malkovich at their first session.

Like his wife Kathryn, he was in no mood to reveal his innermost feelings to a total stranger. He paid little attention to Admiral Paris' directive that Starfleet protocol be adhered to. He was obliged to see a counsellor and conceded that the admirals had the right to force him to attend the sessions.

Chakotay had, after all, fallen off the Federation radar and was missing for three years. What he had done in those years, besides rescuing women and young teens, no one knew of. Perhaps some suspected, but only those on the New Liberty had seen the Angry Warrior in action as he dispatched villains in cold blood. For three years Chakotay had lived by no one's rules but his own. Back in the fold of the Federation he had to behave in the best tradition of Starfleet officers and not kill a suspect on sight.

He had to be integrated into life at home, as Admiral Paris indicated, and his stepfather-in-law agreed with a nod of the head. They seemed to know he would find it difficult to fit right back in, seeing as he looked upon every tall, dark-haired, liquid brown eyed man - human or not - with severe suspicion, hence the unfortunate incident in Counsellor Mariusz Malkovich's office. Apparently that cultured official of Starfleet Command's Psychological Assessment Consultative Agency looked a lot like someone Chakotay would have liked to murder all over again, if such a thing was possible.  Chakotay reacted instinctively when Malkovich smiled and Chakotay imagined him holding Kathryn's shoulder in a vice grip.  

Every man was Daryl Wentworth and every man was Dorron. It was difficult to separate his imaginings from what he innately knew to be the truth. Not all men were like the beasts he'd dealt with in the Gamma Quadrant. Yet Wentworth was an upstanding citizen of the Federation, a sophisticate who managed to conceal an unspeakable dark side. Chakotay's life in the Gamma Quadrant sharpened his instinct to protect his beloved wife and son and anyone who remotely threatened them was asking for trouble.

He had killed men in cold blood, his d'k tahg flashing with all the pent up anger against the contemptibility of their acts. Kathryn was the only person who knew he suffered debilitating nightmares of those dark periods in his life. In the middle of the night without any warning he'd find himself with his hand around Kathryn's neck, trying to squeeze the life out of her. The only way they had decided to deal with that problem was for her to sleep with a filled hypospray under her pillow. She would sedate him and only hours later he would wake up and apologise profusely. Once he'd told he'd better leave her and Andrew, steal his New Liberty which was now a derelict drifting in space and head back to the Gamma Quadrant where he could cheerfully murder men like Wentworth and Dorron. Then Kathryn would shake him as hard as she could manage and with all the fury she could muster tell him he'd better stay where he was, she'd waited long enough for him.

Mariusz Malkovich's nose was broken on that first day, the blood spurting profusely from both nostrils. The counselling session aborted, he'd commed Starfleet Medical to alert them of an emergency.

"Is something wrong with Captain Chakotay?" Doctor Elizabeth Paris, mother of Tom Paris, asked. Apparently everyone connected to Chakotay and Kathryn knew he was in session.

"No, Doctor," Counsellor Malkovich mumbled. "It's me. Captain Chakotay's head accidentally connected with my face. My nose might be broken in two places."

Chakotay had stormed out of Malkovich's office, head bent like a dark cloud was hanging over him. Just before the counsellor was transported he heard the words, "You have to come back. I'll be waiting for you!"

So the next day Chakotay returned, his apology not sounding like one at all. He wasn't going to tell Mariusz Malkovich that he resembled that asshole Daryl Wentworth and had lost it a little when the man smiled at him. Only weeks later, when Chakotay had softened enough not to be a threat to the counsellor, he'd relented.

"You look like that asshole."

"Who?"

"Vice-Admiral Wentworth, the scum of the earth."

"I understand, Captain. He had accomplices."

"I know. I killed them all! Paris and Ponsonby's directive."

"Why did you do it, Captain? Kill those men? You had other options, not so?"

"It was kill or be killed. I told you that already!"

Chakotay rose from his chair and leaned over the desk, scowling as he spoke. Malkovich appeared to jump out of his chair for fear he'd have his nose broken again. But he held his nerve as their faces practically touched. Little by little he managed to get through to this difficult man. Chakotay never softened his stance and the increments to peace were negligible.

Kathryn Janeway was the beginning and the end of his existence. He would fight to protect her with his life. Every man he killed, every blade that flashed was because Kathryn lay at the heart of those attacks and brought him closer to her. He raged through his regrets, just like Kathryn had to evolve through hers. _If_ he had waited for Kathryn. _If_ he had told her that night they made love that he would rethink his position with Seven of Nine. _If_ he'd told her then that he loved her. If, if, if.

That Kathryn would marry Wentworth on the day be broke off with Seven would gnaw at him and torment him in his dreams. He fought with Mariusz Malkovich, attacked and counter-attacked, heated exchanges that threatened to cause him to physically harm his counsellor gain. But Mariusz persevered and unlocked Chakotay's demons, his fears, his need to kill in order to protect.

"You never killed a woman before, Captain. Why did you kill Marine Provost?"

"God damn you!" Chakotay exploded as he jerked upright, the movement accompanied by the flash of his d'k tahg. He looked with astonishment at the dagger in his hand, then slowly settled back in his chair, the weapon sliding back in its sheath. Did anyone know he carried it at the top of his boot hidden under his extremely neat Starfleet pants?

He breathed heavily, his chest heaving. Mariusz stared at him and waited. There was no need to hail Security. The words, when they fell from Chakotay, were strained with an old remembered pain and fury.

"She betrayed me. She didn't want saving. She collaborated with her handlers in procuring victims."

"But you killed her."

"She would have killed me first. I had to eliminate her, don't you understand?"

"I understand that it was the only time you were unable to save nine victims," Malkovich parried.

Chakotay glared at the counsellor, nostrils flaring. He reached for his d'k tahg, ready to strike, then simmered down. He thought of that day. He'd been critically injured himself and Marine Provost had laughed as she betrayed him. He couldn't save the girls. For two years it haunted him, girls he could have saved. Where were they now? Dead! Dead!

"I had to leave them there! Don't you understand? I left them there!"

"Maybe they didn't die, Captain, still waiting for a saviour."

He thought of Bela Rivot, beautiful Bela whose body had healed, who attended high school in San Francisco, Bela whose life he saved. Isner had sworn to continue Chakotay's work and had already gathered a formidable crew that would rout the practice of sex trafficking.

Maybe. It was a suggestion that appeared to still the beast in him.

Slowly, over several months with a counsellor who refused to give up on him, Chakotay returned to the warrior he once was, full of honour and glory.

If it weren't for Kathryn.

**************

**The broken dolls**

Four young students graduated from James T. Kirk High School in 2383. Neam Wajja was now almost as tall as Chakotay. His best friend Joda completed his studies topping the entire senior grade in Mathematics and Science. The girls had very quickly settled in at the school and embroiled themselves in many things associated with the agonies of being females. They enjoyed being part of a new community of high schoolers and often indulged in bragging about how they knew Professor Chakotay of Starfleet Academy and Admiral Janeway better than anyone else at James T.

However, they never divulged anything of their experiences on the New Liberty, not because they were asked not to, but all were imbued with an inherent abhorrence to gossiping about two persons who they loved and admired. Those were things very private and only discussed amongst themselves.

They all excelled in sports and various aspects of the academic curriculum. Orjja had always had a fascination for exobiology and anthropology. She expressed a desire at attend a prestigious university for her chosen career field. The other three were heading for the Academy, as all were more interested serving the Federation as officers on starships.

The four had been given citizenship of the Federation and elected to base themselves on Earth where they could be close to Wadra, Linnea, Lon and Bela as well as members of Admiral Janeway's family. They had settled in naturally, but it would not have been possible were it not for the fostering of Linnea and Lon as well as Admiral Janeway's mother and stepfather. Neam, Joda and Amu were sponsored by Admiral Janeway and Admiral Ponsonby to enter the Academy in the new academic year.

Linnea and Lon provided a home for them and basically became their new parents. They were happy, well-adjusted young people looking forward to becoming cadets. They did not miss their homeworld so much because, they declared, Linnea and Lon provided a home for them. Besides, most of Krepek's culture, history, literature and political policies had been downloaded on their home vid-coms, available for research whenever they wished.

Life, Neam Wajja decided, was good.

****

Bela Rivot was a first year cadet who finished the year top of her class. With her father Lon and Linnea Limos-Rivot she thrived in their love and care. Like young Andrew and his parents, Bela had been counselled by Deanna Troi whom she admired very much. Deana never pushed too hard at her defences and exuded patience and empathy. At first she had been wary of the newness of everything around her. She was a stranger in a very strange quadrant but gradually began to acclimatise. With her father Lon they were the only representatives of their race in the Federation, speaking a unique language.

For two years her world had been an aggressive one, with no goodness surrounding her. That world into which she had been forced was the world of thieves, gangs, rapists, sex traffickers, slave traders, all accompanied by dark conduct, lack of any breeding, lack of any kind of decency. She'd listened to vile language, some which she recognised, used solely for the act of mating in the grossest terms. She ate when they put food down, whatever it was, and used her hands to eat. All the girls did that. Whatever kindness there was, was shared between girls like her, bedraggled, beaten, raped until their bodies could not protest anymore. They were men, she believed firmly, who had no morals, no ethical barrier that could tell them, "This is but a child taken from her home by force," or "I wonder whose mother this is." Those individuals she had learned the hard way, would always dwell in any homeworld, even in the one she had adopted as her home.

Although she was a beloved child of the household of Linnea and her father and four adopted siblings, she still needed counselling, for she was driven by her nightmares and her conscience during the day. It was hard not to stop thinking about what had happened to her or to ponder on her regrets or think about them as "It is over now" as her father reminded her over and over.

So her sessions with Deanna Troi were stormy at first until she steadily began to improve, to see the world once again as a place where she could be free, to love her family, to play, to go out with fellow cadets and not be afraid at every dark corner. Because of her particular situation, Bela had agreed, in consultation with her father and Linnea whom he married not long after they arrived on Earth, as well as Admiral Janeway to have a transponder implanted at the base of her skull. It could be activated when a situation necessitated protection. Her father, however, cautioned her not to get so comfortable with it that she'd never want it removed.  

Accelerated through her last year at school she had progressed beyond all expectation. She was naturally gifted in the sciences and like her four siblings, were sponsored by Admiral Janeway. She was ready to enter year two at the Academy and was greatly excited about that.

Bela still viewed males with suspicion. She was comfortable with the males of her immediately family, Captain Chakotay, Admiral Ponsonby upon whom she looked as a kindly grandfather and Admiral Paris who gave her so much grief in year one of Quantum Mechanics.

Bela supposed she would always have that suspicion and shied away from cadets who tried to date her. What could she tell them? She had time enough to think of those responses.

What she knew was that she would one day love a man enough that he could share a bed with her. Like Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay. Like her father Lon and Linnea.

*************

Lon Rivot, father of Bela couldn't keep his eyes off Linnea Limos from the moment he'd met her while on the New Liberty. He had lost his dear Nadjja when Bela was but a little girl. He had tried to raise his daughter alone but always thought he was failing at being a father. Bela became obstinate as she entered her teens. She could look after herself, she always declared.

He loved his little girl with his whole heart. As she grew older she began to resemble her late mother more and more. He'd tell her, 'You are as beautiful as your mother, Bela. I wish she were alive to see you."

He had searched for his daughter for two years and had not been under any illusion of the life she had been forced to live. Any framework that had Dorron's name in it portended danger to his little girl. She was bright, the brightest in her class, far above the average. He had sunk into the depth of despair in his fruitless search until he met Chakotay whom he stabbed only to warn and not kill him.

And how he had wept when they found Bela, his broken doll. How he assured her of his undying devotion to her. When Bela asked him to forgive her for being so stubborn and disobedient, he had taken her hands in his and the words had poured from his lips.

"My darling child! How can you ask that? There is nothing to forgive. I love you so much!"

Bela had been witness to his growing affection for Linnea Limos who had been a slave like her and Admiral Janeway. She had liked Linnea instantly and Linnea's heart had opened to the young girl who needed a mother figure in her life. Linnea was Krepekean and Lon Rivot a Rodaran, different species but so close in appearance! Lon was unlike his race, never so aggressive and ready to do war with Krepek who had done him nothing, he always maintained.

Admiral Janeway married them and Linnea had wept quietly throughout the ceremony. She had been open with Lon, revealing to him of the nature of her injuries and how the Emergency Medical Hologram healed her and removed her scars. She was unable to bear him children. Lon had gazed into Linnea's eyes and held her very fragile shoulders.

"My beloved, we have a daughter and four young school children who need us to be their parents. They are ours, did you not know that? Like Bela who wishes to call you "Mom", they too, having no parents at all, accept you as their mother.

And so Linnea Limos-Rivot, wife of Lon, became mother to his daughter Bela and four young people who called her Mom. Their house was a home full of joy, of laughter, and sometimes when one or two of them were overtaken by grief, she was there to sit with them through the night, offering solace, her soft voice more than anything, the healing they all needed.

Lon worked at Starfleet Academy, training cadets in hand-to-hand combat, having mastered the hand weapons of various races. His preferred weapon was the bat-leth. He had met B'Elanna Torres-Paris, the former Chief Engineer of Voyager who was a half-Klingon, half-human warrior. They met once a month to fight Klingons in the holosuites of the Academy. He liked B'Elanna, and if anything, loved her little girl Miral Paris who had taken to the kind Rodaran almost on sight.

When Admiral Janeway asked Linnea whether she desired to be employed at Starfleet Command or study biodiversity, she had been quiet a full minute before she responded.

"I have five children, Admiral, and I enjoy keeping house for all of them. I enjoy hairdressing. I can open a little salon here in San Francisco."

"I remember," Admiral Janeway had said with a smile.

Yes, Linnea decided as she stood in her little salon overlooking the bay, life is good.

*******

Wadra Piroq was sixty in Earth years. She lived next door to the Rivots and their children where she spent most of her time being a grandmother to young teens. When they were away at school, she shuttled to Indiana to be with Andrew who thrived in the care of his grandparents. But Andrew never forgot the woman who practically raised him to his second year.

To the Rivots and their children she was the grandmother they needed, a vital element who not only provided maturity and grace, but spoke their language, although all of them had learned to speak English fluently.

Kathryn Janeway and Captain Chakotay no longer appeared so fearsome to her. They had forgiven her and assured her that they could not dwell on the regrets of their lives. She had been forced into a situation she did not desire. Sometimes she still missed her late husband, but life, she decided had to go on. Some mornings she assisted Linnea in her hairdresser. At others she used the public transportation systems to visit Earth's museums, sit near the edge of the Grand Canyon and reflect on the goodness that her life had become.

She was, like Linnea, creative and had completed for each of the girls and boys their personal medicine wheels, using Earth's materials. While Bela did not speak the language of Krepek, she understood Wadra and many times simply hugged her for long moments without speaking. Wadra would caress the young woman's hair, hold her close, whisper little endearments and mostly just assured her that she was home and free.

She missed her homeworld but somehow, with her new family who loved her and whom she loved, that longing dimmed with time.

So it was with the greatest surprise when Wadra opened the front door of her new home one day. Her visitor looked familiar.  After all, they were always told they looked like twins. Her sister who chased her away from the only home she had ever known, who hated her so fiercely.

She looked at Wadra apprehension in her eyes.

"Greetings, Wadra…" she said on a whisper.

"Riga? How - how did you get here?"

Wadra's sister stood there, wringing her hands together, and even as she began explaining and asking for forgiveness, Wadra pulled her sister in her embrace and wept long. Riga would not have made the arduous journey from Krepek to the Alpha Quadrant for nothing.

"You are here, my sister. That is all that matters to me."

And Riga who once hated Wadra so much, could only stand in awe at the grace of forgiveness with which her sister blessed her.

*********

**Kathryn and Chakotay**

They made their home in San Francisco where Kathryn could ensure that Andrew was close to play centres, his counsellor whom he lovingly called Missou for Miss Zhu and she and Chakotay could have easy access to Head Office, the Academy, schools, the newly inducted citizens of the Federation.

If Kathryn had any doubts about the way she would be received upon their return home, she was surprised by the depth of her parents' affection, how Gretchen Janeway simply wept and declared that she knew Kathryn had not died and that Chakotay would bring her home.

But Kathryn was no fool. She knew there would be instances that memories would swamp her, that people would look at her and she'd feel as if their eyes followed her wherever she went. That, she believed, came with the territory of being a rescued slave.

She had declined to meet with Daryl Wentworth's sister who lived on Mer'ok where she worked as a physician and who had travelled to Earth to seek pardon on behalf of her brother. Kathryn, always so forgiving, couldn't bring herself to look Eleanor Wentworth in the eyes. Chakotay, who had not left Kathryn's side, always ready to fight anyone who threatened his beloved, had growled first before saying anything. After that Eleanor left for Mer'ok empty-handed.

Chakotay had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not her brother's keeper, that Wentworth had committed unspeakable crimes against his wife and any woman who had become to him merchandise. As a representative of the Federation with its high ideals of preservation of and respect for life, he failed as a human being. There was no excuse for scum of the earth who deserved to rot in a place fit only for scum. All the time he spoke to Eleanor Wentworth, Chakotay's arm had been protectively around his wife's shoulder.

They were a team who had been welcomed by the senior officers of the Voyager crew. Kathryn had hugged them all, Seven of Nine the longest. What was her surprise to learn that the former Borg was married to Harry Kim and that they were awaiting their first born.

Kathryn had been introduced to four year old Miral Torres who liked her instantly, especially when Kathryn told her that Miral was her goddaughter.

Chakotay, always the protector, hovered in the vicinity whenever they were among people. Gradually people's natural curiosity changed to acceptance. They had imaginations which none of the crew of the New Liberty was going to feed. Like Kathryn's family they embraced her as the survivor she was and continued normal relations with her and Chakotay.

Chakotay had been hailed the returning warrior reunited with his sister Sekaya and niece Nyal, his mission in the Gamma Quadrant completed. He had been in consultation with Admirals Paris and Ponsonby in lengthy debriefings. Their medical files were all encrypted, especially Kathryn's and that of Bela Rivot.

Chakotay made it clear to the admirals that while he'd succeeded in rescuing Kathryn, that he had not been able to rout sex trafficking once and for all. Continuing missions particularly within the Federation borders were on the radar. For now, he was satisfied that Kathryn was home.

He was happy. Kathryn was happy. They were a family now.

In all, Kathryn decided, it was good.

*******

END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, it is with sadness I part with this story and the characters I have created. When I first embarked on "The Dancer", it was just an flash of an idea, "What if Janeway goes missing and Chakotay finds her three years later?" scenario. 
> 
> I wrote the first draft, paragraphs, really, when I realised that "The Dancer" as title was fixed in my mind, because he would find her in a seedy nightclub "dancing". I thought, "so what happened to her in the three years"? Sex/Human trafficking was born. 
> 
> This is Kathryn and Chakotay's story against this background. I have touched only on a few aspects, such as the fact that Kathryn was groomed by someone she trusted, others such as the young girl Bela who was abducted from her school. Be that as it may, everything that you and I know of this horrendous practice is only a tiny percentage of what is happening in the world right now.
> 
> Readers who are interested may view the National Geographic videos on YT. If you found reading "The Dancer" in parts a little difficult but was brave, watching those videos will test that bravery.
> 
> I do hope though, that you have enjoyed reading this story.
> 
> My most grateful thanks to all readers who read, offered kudos and offered comments and reviews. Most of the time, you were what kept this project going. Thank you all. 
> 
> vanhunks  
> April 2017


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